Seasons May Change Come What May
by Aelora
Summary: It's Blaine's senior year at McKinley—sans Kurt.   He may find that trying to make it through his senior year without having his best friend and love of his life at his side is more difficult than Blaine ever expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **_It's Blaine's senior year at McKinley-sans Kurt. He's got a lot of shoes to fill, with half of New Directions graduated, and his own penchant for trying to please everybody at once, trying to make it through his senior year without having his best friend and love of his life at his side may prove more difficult than Blaine ever expected._**  
>Author's Notes: <strong>The following is my headcanon for Blaine's senior year next year. None of this will, of course, occur but I figured it best to get it out into the ether prior to the beginning of the next season. The entire fic will be told from Blaine's POV-meaning that often other characters will do and say things that will be interpreted by Blaine. You will not always understand why things are said and done until the characters decide to explain themselves to Blaine.

There are OC's in this because ND needs members. Also, some characters we have previously been introduced to will appear as well.

Currently, this fic is slated for about 10 chapters (each chapter covers a specific month and the highlights of that month). As this fic is Blaine-centric, please be aware that there will be potential for Blaine/? pairings. Not to worry-everything is truly Klaine and will have a happy ending because I can't give them anything less. (Or can I?)

Special thanks to my betas.

* * *

><p><strong>September 2012<strong>  
><strong>McKinley High<strong>  
><strong>Lima, Ohio<strong>

"I'm just saying that the role of Nathan seems to comfortably fit my range more than Rory's. He'd make a far better Sky."

"As the director of this production, I'm going to have to politely disagree with that statement." Artie rolls up next to Blaine, the right wheel of his chair bumping against the lockers with a slight clang. He pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with an index finger. "Forgive me for saying so, but I think you're confusing the movie production with the stage production. Your voice was made for _My Time of Day_. Rory isn't up to the task of playing Sky Masterson at this point in time. You," Artie pauses and squints up at Blaine as if choosing his words carefully, "exude a metrosexual charm the same way that Sky should. Rory, on the other hand, is… cute. Adorable in that 'I just want to pinch his cheeks' kind of way, which could be perfect for Nathan—if for no other reason than to explain why Adelaide didn't just dump his ass years ago."

Blaine laughs at that as he deposits two text books from his messenger bag into his locker.

"If Kurt was here, he'd say the same, you know."

Blaine's laughter abruptly ends as his gaze flickers to the photos decorating the inside of the door. His eyes linger over the one of Kurt in his cap and gown, arms wrapped tightly around Blaine's shoulder, lips pressed to his cheek in a happy kiss while Blaine laughs. Wincing slightly, he slams the door shut, shifting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and spins on his heel.

"Yes, well, he _isn't_here, is he?"

Artie rolls up beside Blaine as they make their way down the mostly empty hallway. "Oh, _I_see."

At the tone of Artie's voice, Blaine glances down at him with a frown. "What?"

"I thought your attitude all day seemed a little weird." Artie has to stop a moment as two cheerleaders pass by without giving him much room. "Tina and I talked about it in English. You were snappy during lunch, and that's totally _not_you—"

"I can be snappy," Blaine protests.

"And then there's this whole musical thing with you insisting on only being Nathan. Also, totally _not_you. Other than just the role, I mean." Artie rolls in front of Blaine and stops, blocking his path. "Did something happen with Kurt?"

_Did something happen with Kurt_? Blaine feels like he's been waiting to hear that question for… well, from the moment Kurt had said his dream was to go to New York for college, to get out of Ohio, and that moment is well past a year now, and the question is just as scary to hear as it has been to contemplate.

Blaine takes a deep breath. "I don't know," he rushes out, side-stepping Artie's chair and continuing down the hall. When Artie is once more beside him, Blaine tells him, "I haven't heard from him in two days. _Two_. No texts. No emails. I logged on to Skype Monday night for our nightly chat and he never appeared."

"Maybe something happened—"Artie's voice sounds concerned.

Blaine's mouth tightens for a moment. "Burt talked to him yesterday morning. He's fine."

"Oh."

They continue on in silence until they reached the end of the hall, and Blaine pushes the door open, stepping inside and holding it to allow Artie to follow him into the locker room. Practice doesn't begin for another thirty minutes, and there are only a few boys milling about; Manuel is texting, and Dean and Matt are thumb wrestling. They glance up at Blaine and Artie, giving them silent nods of greeting before returning to their activities. Blaine opens his locker, removing his practice jersey and pants, and shoving his bag into their place as Artie rolls up beside him, waiting quietly for him to continue.

Blaine drops onto the bench to pull off his boat shoes as he glances at his friend. "We didn't have a fight or anything. He didn't give any indication that he wouldn't be around and I just—" He sighs, curling his bare toes against the cold tile beneath them. "I have an active imagination."

Artie snorts beside him as he reaches out to pat Blaine's shoulder. "This I know. But seriously, what can you worry about when it comes to Kurt? The two of you are so married I keep wondering when you're going to hyphenate your name. One day we'll be sitting in class and Mrs. Brisby will call out 'Blaine Hummel-Anderson', and I'll be all, knew it!"

"Anderson-Hummel," Blaine corrects quietly, and at Artie's expression, he adds, "Kurt's choice, actually."

Artie shakes his head, wheeling around the bench toward his locker to get ready for practice. "See? Nothing to worry about."

Blaine sighs and glances up as more of the team enters the locker room to get ready for practice.

This—_football_—wasn't supposed to happen. As much as Blaine loves the sport, loves football season, dragged Kurt to every Titans game the year before, he never once considered joining the team when he transferred. Dreams of football glory were extinguished for Blaine right around the end of Pee Wee league—when all of the other boys kept growing and he just… stayed there for a while. Perpetually waiting for the day when he'd be able to board the big kid rides at amusement parks, and by the time that happened, football had become a hobby, and was going to remain a hobby, while dreams of playing for the Patriots remained lodged firmly within Blaine's own list of "if only"s.

The thing was, three of the Titan's top players graduated last June, not to mention about ten other team members, and in the midst of Coach Beiste's panic over losing star players, Mike had apparently suggested she recruit Blaine. At first, Blaine had thought it was a joke—weekends of playing flag football with the guys from New Directions in the park in no way merited a spot on a high school football team. When the coach had asked him to try out last spring, Blaine had very politely refused. He's fairly certain that shortly thereafter either Coach Beiste or Mike had gone to Kurt for assistance in convincing him to change his mind. Kurt, knowing Blaine as well as he did, made a stunning move; not by attempting to convince Blaine that he should just give it a shot. Oh no, Kurt is far more clever when it comes to making people do what he wants. He bid his time until he was over at the Anderson's for dinner one night, sitting around the table, passing the bowl of salad and "Oh, did Blaine tell you, Mr. Anderson? Coach Beiste wants him to try out for the football team."

And that had pretty much been that. Blaine's father had been so excited at the prospect of Blaine having the chance to play football again that his excitement had kind of carried over to his son. It's one thing when your father attempts to bond with you over something you really have little interest in; it's quite another when you're offered something you very much love, and know it's one of the few things both you and your father share.

So a few weeks before Kurt's graduation day, Blaine made his way out onto the field where the coach had gathered a bunch of the team, and he did his very best not to let the many people who seemed to have a lot more faith in Blaine than he himself did, down. After quickly spinning and dancing his way to the end zone numerous times with the snapped ball, Coach Beiste declared him the Titan's new running back. Blaine thinks the Titan's new quarterback, Aaron Ford said it best when he told Blaine after his try out, "You may be tiny, dude, but you're quicker than shit."

Coach Beiste has referred to him as "a greased pig in a cannon factory" more than once. (Blaine still has no idea what it means, exactly.) He likes it. It's not only to do with the fact that he's made a few more friends at McKinley now, or that he and his father have something more to talk about over dinner every night, but the chance to get some aggression out on occasion as well has proven to be far more necessary than Blaine ever expected.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Blaine had been fine with Kurt going off to New York for college, fine with the knowledge that he wouldn't be joining him for another year. Fine because it isn't as if New York is on the other side of the country—they'd see one another plenty throughout the school year. And then, once graduation hits, they'll begin their new life together, in New York City, at NYADA, and they'll never have to worry about separation again.

Except, it's harder than Blaine expected. Kurt's been such an integral part of his life over the last two years, and even though they've talked daily since Kurt left Lima three weeks earlier, it just isn't the same. Blaine still finds himself turning to Kurt's empty chair in the choir room, or waits for some comment about the cheeseburger and plate full of fries he has at lunch and it never comes. He has friends—Artie and Tina and Brittany have been godsends so far—so it isn't like he's lonely, per se. Between glee and football and the musical soon, he's busy. He's occupied. It's just… he misses Kurt. Misses Kurt more than he thought possible.

And the fact that Kurt has gone for two days without a word—the longest they've gone without even a text since the very day they met—has Blaine terrified.

"Anderson! You planning on joining us this afternoon?"

Blaine looks up at Coach Beiste's voice, having not realized he'd been standing there staring at the front of his locker for who knows how long. Beside her, hovering in the doorway, Artie is watching him with sympathetic eyes.

"Yeah. Sorry, coach," Blaine says quietly, bending over to tie the laces on his cleats before grabbing his helmet and hurrying out the door.

* * *

><p>Waving off offers to join some of his teammates for coffee at the Lima Bean by claiming he has a lot of homework to get done, Blaine gets home after practice, surprised to find his mother in the kitchen, glancing through the refrigerator.<p>

"I thought you were gone until tomorrow," he says, setting his bag down on the table before grabbing a glass from the cupboard for his usual glass of milk. The cookie jar is depressingly empty, so he just nurses the milk quietly as he watches his mother sigh and close the refrigerator door.

"I was but the conference was cancelled when a fire broke out in the main meeting hall—"

"Are you all right?"

Chesa waves a hand as she opens the pantry and peers into it. "I was in the kitchen at the time, discussing the six hundred lunches that had been prepared with the catering staff. They ended up moving the meeting over to the Hilton. I guarantee at least one person will be losing their job over this—that conference was worth a lot of money."

"They can't like, move back to the Marriott tomorrow or something? Or was the damage really bad?"

"The only thing damaged was a set of curtains." His mother pulls out a boxed dinner of chicken and rice, frowns at it, and sets it back in the pantry. "Unfortunately, there's water damage and it smells awful. I tried talking the client into postponing the conference to next week but they wouldn't budge. The Hilton was only too willing to oblige. The client promised they'd come back to us next year—nothing looks good for dinner. Would you be terribly upset if I ordered pizza?"

"Oh, terribly. Mom, you know how I feel about pizza. I can't believe you're doing this to me. Worst parenting ever, really. You should be ashamed," Blaine deadpans as he moves over to the sink to wash his empty glass out.

Chesa sighs dramatically as she pulls her cell phone from her purse. "I thought as much. Don't tell your father. He'll divorce me."

Blaine laughs, stepping over to place a kiss to her cheek. "Extra pepperoni and extra cheese, white sauce, pan crust—"

"Green peppers?"

"Don't press your luck, lady," he says in a tone reminiscent of James Cagney, grinning as his mom rolls her eyes at him.

"Half the pizza, then," she calls after him as Blaine grabs his bag and heads out of the kitchen toward the stairs.

"As long as they don't touch my side—tell them not to let those things touch my side of the pizza," Blaine yells back halfway up the steps, past the dozens of family photos lining the staircase wall, his older brother in every color of football jersey, smiling wide and bright beside trophies. The latest photo is hung dead center on the wall; Blake smiling and proud in his OSU jersey.

There are a few of Blaine from Pee Wee league near the bottom of the steps—pictures that caused Kurt to stop and point and babble in wonder over the curls Blaine now hides beneath layers of product. There's one halfway up of Blaine poised in fencing garb that his mother took two years ago at a tournament; three more near the top of Blaine standing beside or sitting on Black Jack, his polo pony at Dalton. He's never told anyone, but sometimes Blaine drives out to Dalton just to sneak an apple to Black Jack, and talk to him for a bit.

Setting his messenger bag down in his chair, Blaine glances through the playlists on his iPod, looking for something to both get him through his homework and keep his mind off of Kurt for the next couple of hours before finally deciding on a mix of his favorite female artists. He sits on his bed and opens his laptop, immediately logging in to Skype, on the off-chance that Kurt might be there even though it's only five-thirty and their Skype dates don't start until seven, but he only notices his brother online. Blaine considers talking to him for about 2.5 seconds before changing his mind and digging his chemistry book out of his bag to start on homework. The last time he'd gotten on Skype with his brother, Blake had spent the entire chat literally crying in a beer over Sara breaking up with him. Blaine loves his older brother to death but the relationship ended over three months ago, and besides, Sara turned out to not be as nice as she seemed. Blake could do better.

Forty-five minutes later, his paltry bit of homework is done (all right, so he had completely lied to his teammates to get out of coffee); Blaine has a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand as he jumps on his bed, belting out Kate Nash. "_I just want your kiss boy, kiss boy, kiss boy—I just want your kiss_!" He hops to the edge of the mattress along to the music as he takes another bite of his pizza, quickly swallowing as he bounces back to the center and continues along with her, "_I just want your kiss boy, kiss boy, kiss boy—I just want your kiss_!

"_The lights are on and someone's home, but I'm not sure if they're alone. There's someone else inside my head_—"

"Blaine!"

Kate Nash continues on without him as Blaine stares back guiltily at his mother, who's leaning against the doorway, pizza box in one hand, the other reached out, leveling a finger down to the floor. Blinking, Blaine flashes an apologetic smile as he jumps off the bed and quickly sits down, like maybe he could convince her he's been there all along.

"Sorry, Mom."

Shaking her head, Chesa walks over, holding the box out to him. "I thought maybe you'd want the last few slices since I didn't order the peppers." She smiles as he nods, taking it from her hands to set it on his lap and flip the lid open. _Three slices left_! _Score_!

"Is your homework done?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"So you thought you'd reward yourself by jumping on furniture?" She asks, amusement coloring her tone as she moves to grab his shoes from the floor and carry them to his closet. "I swear, Blaine Anderson, sometimes I think a rock climber impregnated me instead of your father."

"Oh, god, Mom!" Blaine drops his slice of pizza to cover his ears in horror. "Can you refrain from putting such images in my head? _Fore_ver?"

"Don't worry. It's not like it was all that exciting or naughty or anything. It was just your father—"

"Mom!" Blaine squeaks and falls back on his bed, covering his face with the pizza box, which he bangs against his forehead repeatedly in the hopes of expelling all thoughts of his parents engaged in sex.

"What? Twice I've walked in to find your boyfriend with his tongue down your throat," his mother comments, patting his knee as she returns next to him, lifting the box from his hands to place it on his desk. "I think you're due for a little payback."

Blaine leans up on his elbows, scrunching his face as he looks at her. "Right, because that time over the summer when you asked Kurt if we were being careful and using condoms wasn't enough."

Chesa grins as she leans over to press a kiss to his forehead. "A mother can't want her boy to be safe?"

"Not at the expense of his dignity, _no_," Blaine says emphatically.

"Speaking of," she glances toward his laptop, "it's almost time for your nightly chat, isn't it?"

Sighing, Blaine nods and follows her gaze, heart sinking a little as he imagines another night without seeing Kurt's face. "Yeah. I guess."

"You guess? Did Kurt have to cancel?"

Blaine shrugs as he sits up fully. "I don't know. He hasn't been on the last two nights. I… I haven't heard from him at all."

Chesa is silent for a long moment before her hand rests against his shoulder and she gives it a light squeeze. "I'm sure he's just been busy with school. And Rachel. You did say they're living together, right? That girl's a handful. I'm sure living with her is a daily three-ring circus. I wouldn't worry too much." She tucks a stray curl behind his ear. "There's ice cream downstairs later if you want some. It's strawberry. I successfully hid it from your father in the back of the freezer."

"Thanks, Mom." Blaine watches silently as she leaves the room before he wriggles back on his bed to lean against the headboard, picking up another slice of pizza as he stares at the screen of his laptop besides him. He hums along with Avril Lavigne and waits for seven o'clock.

Blaine is staring at the time on his laptop as it hits seven o'clock. His eyes flicker to his address book on Skype, but Kurt isn't online yet. He takes a breath, trying not to let his heart fall from his chest, and reaches out for another piece of pizza only to realize the box is empty. Sighing, he tosses it to the floor and glances at the clock again. Seven oh one. And back to the list. Still no Kurt.

Picking up his pencil, Blaine begins tapping in rhythm to Maria Mena against his leg, trying not to watch the clock, and failing miserably. Without even realizing he's doing it, Blaine starts singing along, "_Oh I'm in love, again, again. And you may call me tomorrow my friend, yes. You may kiss me again and again. I'll hold on tight. I climbed up on his shoulders and laughed until I cried. The view and I collide, to see this through his eyes_." He frowns as the lyrics hit him, and slumps against his pillows eyes downcast as he tries very, very hard not to let all of the fears and hurt over Kurt's silence engulf him.

It isn't supposed to be like this. It's only been a few weeks. They can't last that long without seeing one another before it all just ends? No! Blaine isn't going to stand for that. Sitting up, he reaches for his phone on his nightstand, determined to get Kurt to talk to him and, if he doesn't answer then he'll just leave one ridiculously long and pleading message after another.

Just as he's about to hit dial, Blaine spies Kurt's name light up on the screen, and he tries really, really hard not to cry as he connects to see his boyfriend's beautiful face appear before him.

"Kurt!" Blaine's sure his voice cracks just a little, and he doesn't care. "I didn't—I'm so glad you're here! I've missed you so much, and I was so worried but your dad said he talked to you and—"

"Sorry," Kurt interrupts quickly. He looks tired, smiling just a little at Blaine, shoulders lower than usual. "I've just—school's been really busy and I've got an internship down at Hirschfeld, and I know I should have emailed or texted or something but every time I thought I'd have a moment to do that—"

"No! It's okay," Blaine says, cutting him off because he feels ridiculously guilty for thinking it was anything other than really important reasons that Kurt hasn't been around. "Please, don't apologize. I know you're busy, and everything is new and… I'm just glad you're here now."

Blaine can't stop staring. Not seeing Kurt regularly means when he does get the chance, Blaine just drinks in the sight of him–the flawless complexion, impossible to describe eyes, lips that Blaine misses kissing beyond imagination. Lips that he misses the feel of moving over his skin and—

Okay. He needs to stop there before he has to excuse himself for a few minutes. The last time he and Kurt had attempted a Skype sex session, Rachel had interrupted, just breezing into Kurt's room. Luckily it had happened before they'd really started anything. While Kurt is apparently now locking his door, he still hasn't been convinced to take any more chances just yet. Blaine glances at the countdown he has on his desktop. Just less than three weeks to go until Kurt has a four day weekend—one he plans on spending in Lima. Blaine can certainly make it until then.

"Oh! Mr. Schue wanted me to say hi for him," Blaine tells Kurt with a smile. "He said the choir room just isn't the same without you in it, and while I tend to agree with that, I'm admittedly a little biased, so it was really nice to hear him mentioning the same sentiment. You should have been there Monday—Brittany brought _Lord Tubbington to class_."

Kurt blinks at that, eyes widening a little. "What? _Why_?"

Blaine laughs, flailing his hands a little in front of him as he explains, "She says he wanted to learn French. I don't—" Blaine broke off, giggling. "Seriously, Kurt, I'm beginning to think that all the things she says about him are actually true. At this point in time, if I were to see that cat smoking and hanging out with a bad crowd reading Brittany's diary aloud in French, I wouldn't even be surprised." He shakes his head with another laugh. "So many people think Brittany's dumb, but I'm starting to think she's actually from another dimension and is just able to see things the rest of us can't."

"Please tell me you don't honestly believe that?"

Smile faltering, Blaine stares at the screen a moment. Kurt's tone and the set of his expression clearly say he's annoyed about something. Blaine runs through the past few moments in his mind, wondering if he'd said something wrong, but there's nothing that he can recall to make Kurt behave this way. He struggles for a moment with how to respond, before finally saying quietly, "No. But it's a nice thought, isn't it?"

Kurt shrugs and pulls a book in front of him, flipping it open.

Shifting uncomfortably on his bed, Blaine finds he can't get past the sense that Kurt honestly doesn't want to be there. That… this entire conversation is a chore or something. It's ridiculous, of course; their Skype session Sunday night had been just about perfect. They'd gazed into their cameras for a good two hours, talking about how much they'd missed one another, and adding together the hours until they would see one another again.

"So." Blaine lets the word hang there a moment before asking, "What's been going on the last couple of days?"

"School," Kurt says shortly. "I'm just really busy, you know?"

Blaine nods, eyes sweeping over Kurt's image as Kurt barely seems to acknowledge that Blaine's even there. "Not too busy to enjoy and get to know your new city, I hope?"

Kurt shrugs, but says nothing.

Blaine takes a breath, searching for something that might involve Kurt in the conversation with him more. He smiles suddenly, perking up as he straightens against the headboard.

"I've been dying to talk to you about the school musical," Blaine begins, relieved that he can finally get Kurt's opinion in it all. No one's matters more than his opinion in Blaine's world, and Artie was right—it's precisely why he's been so on edge over the whole matter. "You know how we're doing _Guys and Dolls_, right? Well, I think Nathan Detroit would be a better fit for me. I mean, they're both great parts, but Sky just seems like such an independent, suave, kind of dashing man, you know? And Nathan… well, you have to admit, the guy is kind of made of fail and I think we both know I could write the book on that personality trait!" Blaine smiles.

Kurt glances up at the screen momentarily, lips compressed tightly, before dropping his gaze to his book once more.

Blaine worries his lower lip for a few seconds, before continuing, "Anyway, Artie disagrees. He wants me to play Sky, and Rory to play Nathan. I'm not going to argue with what I get, honestly—just the fact that he wants me for another lead is enough for me. I don't know. I'd just be more comfortable with Nathan, I guess. Plus, I really think Tina is going to get the role of Sergeant Sarah Brown, and the idea of singing love songs and kissing someone who's like a sister to me?" He visibly shudders and laughs. "I can't imagine we wouldn't end up giggling the entire time. I don't know… what do you think?"

Kurt flips a page, and shrugs.

To say Kurt's lack of any sort of interest in what Blaine is asking him about stings a little bit is an understatement. Even last year, when they had been competing for the same role, Kurt had still been open and willing to talk to him about _West Side Story _and the role of Tony. He'd encouraged Blaine, and supported him, even when Blaine could see how much it was hurting Kurt that he hadn't even been considered for the role. Now, it is as if Kurt could care less.

"Kurt," Blaine says quietly. "I was hoping that maybe you would give me your opinion? You're… I don't understand why you're acting like you just don't… care."

Kurt looks up at that, but his eyes barely hold Blaine's for a fraction of a second before he drops them back to his book. "I'm sorry, Blaine, but I have more important things to worry about than high school musicals."

That hurts. Blaine sucks in a breath and responds in the only way his injured pride will allow him to do. "My apologies if the things that matter to me are such an annoyance to you."

Kurt rolls his eyes. Actually rolls his eyes at Blaine. "Stop being so childish."

Blaine logs off Skype without another word.

It takes him approximately a minute to realize what he's just done—that he just hung up on his boyfriend without even a warning—and quickly logs back in, heart racing.

Kurt's no longer there.

"Why?" Blaine says it aloud to the screen, voice breaking slightly as his brain catches up to the painful ache in his heart. Kurt knows him well enough to understand that sometimes Blaine just reacts to situations, following what he's feeling, and not necessarily thinking it over beforehand. He should know that Blaine would log back in once coming to his senses; he should have waited for him.

Caught between anger and hurt, Blaine continues to sit there the next few minutes, staring at the panel, waiting for Kurt's name to light up and indicate that he is back online, but the minutes continue to tick by, and Kurt doesn't reappear. Blaine blows out a shaky breath, eyes stinging as tears gather because Kurt's never behaved this way to him before. Even when Kurt's been angry with Blaine, even when he's been frustrated, he's never shown annoyance, never once indicated that there were things in his life far more important to him than the boy he professes to love.

Blaine isn't even certain of what he's supposed to be feeling in that moment.

_Come What May _begins playing from his phone and Blaine reaches for it, hesitating a moment, staring at the caller ID with Kurt's name flashing. He goes to pick it up, and the song stops. He can't remember if he had it forwarded for any reason. So he waits, because maybe it was, and Kurt is leaving a message. Or if it isn't, maybe something came up and Kurt had to stop the call and would soon be calling back. Maybe he'll text instead; something short and quick like **_Get on Skype_**.

Blaine sits and waits, staring at his phone for a full five minutes before it becomes too much, before he realizes that Kurt is not, in fact, going to call back or text or anything. The anger and hurt building inside of him becoming overwhelming and Blaine shouts at his phone, "You really wanted to talk to me, didn't you?" before throwing it across the room. It hits the wall hard, leaving a mark before dropping to the carpet.

By the time his mother walks into the room only a minute or so later, Blaine is kneeling on the floor, checking his phone to see if he broke it, to see if maybe Kurt is trying to call him.

"Blaine? Honey, is something wrong? I thought I heard you shouting."

Dropping to a cross-legged position, Blaine stares blankly at the phone in his hand before looking up at his mother as she walks over beside him. Seeing the expression of concern on her face makes everything hurt suddenly, and the first tears finally fall. "Kurt and I had a fight… I think." Because he doesn't know. They didn't yell, or anything. They just… nothing.

"Oh," she says quietly, reaching her hand out to touch his hair. "What about?"

Blaine shakes his head; he doesn't even know how to answer that. "It was like he didn't even want to talk to me, Mom. He just… he called me childish."

Chesa purses her lips, saying nothing for a moment as her fingers brush against his scalp. "I'm sure he didn't mean it. Kurt loves you very much, honey. I've seen the way he looks at you." She cups his chin and gives him a smile. "Why don't I make you some hot chocolate? We still have some marshmallows left over. Would you like that?"

How can he drink hot chocolate and eat marshmallows when it feels like his entire world is ending? Kurt is annoyed with him, and doesn't care, and Blaine has absolutely no idea what he's done to make Kurt feel this way.

"Maybe I should call him," Blaine says, not answering her question as he drops his gaze to his phone, more tears falling. His breath shudders as he breathes in. "Or text? Maybe I should—I don't know what I did."

His mother sighs and she kneels down next to him, brushing at some lint on her skirt. "Sometimes we let things get to us in life, and we take it out on the people we love the most because they're there, and because we know they'll forgive us." She slides an arm around Blaine and pulls him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he allows himself to softly cry against her shoulder. "Give him time to get past whatever is bothering him. It's more than likely Kurt didn't even realize he was hurting you. Wait until morning. Things will be okay, I promise." She gives him another kiss. "Why don't you get washed up and ready for bed, and I'll bring you that hot chocolate, okay?"

Blaine nods quietly as his mother pulls away and stands, leaving him alone. He wipes his tears away, and thinks about texting Kurt anyway, but if his mother is right, he doesn't want to annoy him further. Clutching his phone in his hand, Blaine climbs up on to his bed, pulling his pillow against his chest as he stares at the dark screen, and waits.

* * *

><p>Blaine wakes to the sound of a familiar voice calling out to him.<p>

"—promised me coffee this morning, Boo. We're going to be late at this rate."

Tina crawls up on to his bed as Blaine blinks his eyes open, wondering why they hurt so much and feel gummy. Tina's on her hands and knees, leaning over him, brow furrowing as she looks down at him. She reaches out to touch his forehead. "Are you sick? You look like shit." She sits back on her heels, the skirt of her blue polka dot dress fanning out over the duvet. "Your dad said there was drama."

"M'dad's home?" Blaine asks; his throat feels slightly sore. Is he getting sick?

Drama? Oh, wait.

_Kurt_. The memories of what transpired last night hit Blaine like an unexpected wave, the water choking him as it sweeps into his mouth and throat, causing his eyes to sting and his chest to ache. He thinks this has to be a little of what dying is like as he curls into himself.

"Yeah, looks like he just got in because a suit case was sitting in the hallway—oh my god, Blaine, are you crying? Blaine, what—oh my god, _stop_!"

Blaine tries to draw in a breath and do exactly what Tina has asked—stop crying—but it turns into a sob instead. When he feels her throw her arms around him, hands rubbing over his back soothingly, the tears become even more difficult to control. He hasn't cried like this in a while; has never cried like this _because of Kurt_.

"Blaine, seriously, what—did someone _die_?"

"Kurt—"

"Oh my god! Kurt died?" Tina pulls back, eyes wide with shock.

Blaine shakes his head and dashes at his tears with the back of his hands. He hates crying. He especially hates crying in front of others because then they try to comfort him, and he always feels awkward, like he doesn't know what to say or that he doesn't deserve their sympathy or something. He knows it's just a lie, but being strong and being happy, those are traits that please people. It's all Blaine's ever wanted, continues to ever want—to make people smile, to make people glad to be around him. Tears are frightening and unsettling, and so very inconvenient.

"No," he gets out quickly before Tina joins him in his tears because the girl can cry at the drop of a hat, and she doesn't need to be crying over something that is not even true. "Kurt and I, we… I think we broke up."

_Oh god_. He just said that, didn't he? Blaine presses the heels of his hands hard against his eyes as the tears begin falling again.

"What? That's insane." Tina leans over and wraps her arms around him once more, shushing him softly as she pets his head. "Blaine and Kurt do not break up. That'd be like… yin without yang, comedy without tragedy… Panic without the disco." She presses a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry, bad joke. But you get what I mean? Tell me what happened. Come here. Sit up. You're going to choke on your own snot or something."

Blaine surprises himself with a little laugh at that as he allows her to help him into a sitting position before he kind of slumps against the headboard. Tina digs through the purse strapped across her shoulders and he looks down at the phone still clutched in his hand. No messages. No calls. Just like the night before.

"Now tell me exactly what happened," she instructs, pulling a tissue from a portable pack and reaching over to wipe his tears away. She holds it over his nose. "Blow."

Pulling a face at her, Blaine takes the tissue from her fingers while she shrugs and sits back on her heels once more, patting his thigh as he blows his nose. He wipes at his eyes again while she quietly waits, strands of hair falling out of her ponytail from when she hugged him.

"I hadn't heard from him the last two days—"

"Artie told me about that last night."

"Well, he got on Skype last night," Blaine says softly, staring down at the tissue between his hands. "And he was so… it was like he didn't want to talk to me. Like I was… boring him or annoying him or something. And I tried to tell him about the musical but he said he had more important things to worry about than school musicals and then… then he told me to stop being childish."

Tina frowns as she pulls out another tissue and leans forward to dab at his eyes again. "That doesn't sound like Kurt at all. Did you ask him why he was acting that way?"

Blaine looks away. "I, ummm… logged off."

"Huh." Tina sits back once more. "Gay. Straight. Men are dumb."

"Thanks, Tina."

"Just being honest. Did you call him, at least?"

"Mom said I should wait until today." Blaine sniffs and looks at his phone again. "In case he had stuff he needed to sort out."

"Hmm. True. I mean, Kurt's always been one of those "need their space" kind of people," she says, watching him with real sympathy in her eyes until he can't take it anymore and looks away. "Boo, you've gotta stop. The two of you have had problems before, and you've always gotten past it. Aren't you the one who told me last spring that every time you fight, it just makes your bond stronger?"

"I lied."

He hadn't, though. It's true, and something both he and Kurt have discussed at length. How the few fights they have had were important and necessary, and have always, _always_ assisted them in working through something vital and scary, and at the very end of those terrifying _minuteshoursdays_, they've always been stronger, better, more in tune with the thoughts and feelings of each other.

"Oh yes, that's you. Blaine Anderson, the big ol' liar." Tina rolls her eyes and grabs hold of his hand. "C'mon. Get up. We're gonna be late for school.

Blaine tugs his hand back, and glares at her in what he hopes is an effective enough manner to get her to leave him alone. He just wants to crawl back under the covers and wait for Kurt to get past whatever it is that's causing him to need space.

Unfortunately, Tina just rolls her eyes and grabs his hand once more as she begins to scoot off of his bed. "Get up, take a quick shower. I'll pick out something brilliant for you to wear—"

"Tina, no offense, but the last time you dressed me, I looked like Mike."

"Admittedly not my best moment," she says with a wave of her hand as she walks over to his closet. "Flannel just doesn't work on you. I promise I'll stick to the basic '50's package."

"I don't dress like the '50's," Blaine mutters, sniffing again as he swings his legs over the bed and gets up, still clinging to his phone. He glances at the screen once more, just in case he missed something.

"Right. And I've never impersonated a vampire before."

"What?" He stares at her, his beautiful Tina who doesn't look anything like a vampire and everything like a very happy teenage girl with a bright smile and a wardrobe Blaine probably would have chosen for himself if he had been born female.

"Nothing. Get showered, Boo. Make yourself gorgeous. Sugar's auditioning for the musical today, and I need moral support."

"I think Sugar is the last person you need to worry about, Tina," Blaine says, pulling a pair of underwear from his dresser and nudging Tina out of the doorway to his closet so he can grab his robe. "She's a sweet girl but I think Artie would willingly lock himself in a Port-A-Pottie before he cast her as Sarah."

Tina snorts and reaches up to pat Blaine's cheek. "You're too nice for your own good, Blaine Anderson. Now, go." She shoves at his shoulders, guiding him toward the hallway. "Your face is all blotchy and unattractive, and if we want to mount an assault against Kurt to make him feel guilty for making you cry, then we need to have you looking sad, but also pretty. Very, very pretty."

* * *

><p>Tina wasn't lying about the assault thing. She starts snapping pictures of him on the drive to school, quickly uploading them to both her Facebook and her Tumblr, which she assures him Kurt regularly checks. Blaine knows it really isn't worth arguing with her about; when Tina gets an idea in her head, there's no stopping her. She's incredibly tenacious, a trait which Blaine thinks not many people associate with her. It's likely because she's such a good-hearted and sweet person—her tenacity only goes so far. She would never hurt someone else to get what she wants, but she tends to have trouble letting go of things as well.<p>

She drags him from class to class, showing up outside his classroom door for the classes they don't have together, snapping pictures that she immediately posts ("You're really getting the whole _oh my god my world is ending_ vibe across, Boo.") to her accounts. It's apparent to Blaine by second period that she's mounted her own kind of assault against _him_when Brittany tackles him in the hallway, calling him her dolphin (Kurt's her unicorn, Blaine her dolphin—there's some inter-species thing going on there that Blaine tries not to think about too hard), placing a bubblegum scented kiss on his cheek and tucking a daisy behind his ear. Blaine leaves the daisy there until one of the hockey players passes him in the hall and smacks it away. The contact with his ear hurts, but Blaine just levels a glare in his direction as he bends to pick up the mangled flower and slips it between the pages of his textbook.

In Calculus, Artie keeps up a running stream on all of his plans for _Guys and Dolls_. Blaine doodles in his notebook, writing out Kurt's name over and over again as his eyes continue to flicker toward his phone set close beside him. He picks it up three times, prepared to text Kurt, only to set it back down. It's beginning to wear on him, the idea that Kurt hasn't texted or called or anything. Yes, Blaine was the one who ended their Skype session, but surely Kurt realized he was being an ass, right? He'd give Kurt the rest of the day, and the benefit of the doubt that maybe he's busy with something, and then he'll send him the most amazingly passive aggressive text in the history of texting.

Lunch this year is different than when Blaine had Kurt there; different than having all of the New Direction's seniors around. Last year Blaine had spent most of his lunches tucked up beside Kurt, occasionally sharing off of one another's plates as they listened to conversations that usually devolved into several members of the glee club attempt to win the award for loudest at the table. Typically, Rachel ended up the winner of the contest, but sometimes Santana or Mercedes would step in to show her what true vocal power was all about. By March, Kurt and Blaine had developed a game together that when the conversation became too loud, they'd start singing. The others had quickly caught on and joined in, until that one fateful lunch period when the student body had apparently had enough, and they'd all ended up wearing slushies for their trouble.

This year, lunch is proving to be less chaotic. Blaine is usually the first into the cafeteria, followed shortly by Artie and Tina who have class together, and then Rory and Sugar will soon follow, all gathering around Blaine, asking him how his morning was, and what he has planned after school. Brittany usually ends up leaving the Cheerio table about halfway through lunch to join them, sometimes sitting between Artie and Tina, and other times squeezing in next to Blaine, where she inevitably cuddles against him and wonders aloud why she has to spend five years at school when everyone else only has to do four. Blaine's answer is always the same: "Because you're more important than the rest of us, Britt. And besides, New Directions wouldn't be the same without you."

Today's lunch passes with forced conversation that Blaine is fairly certain has everything to do with him. He spends much of his time glaring in Tina's direction while she carefully avoids his gaze at all cost—he knows information passes around the glee club faster than _Doctor Who_spoilers on Tumblr, but that doesn't mean he has to like it, especially when it's about him.

"So what are you doing for this week's assignment, Blaine?" Rory asks, looking over at him as he licks some of the salt from the fry between his fingers before eating it.

Assignment… _crap_. Blaine's been so wrapped up in everything happening with Kurt and the musical that he'd completely spaced Mr. Schuester's request that they each find a song that reminded them of their childhood to sing. He fidgets slightly in the plastic chair beneath him as everyone at the table collectively looks in his direction.

There was something to be said for the council of the Warblers choosing most of his songs for him.

"I… haven't really given it much thought," he admits, brow furrowing as he notices everyone around him flashing expressions of sympathy. As if it's completely understandable that he's totally forgotten an assignment due to boyfriend trouble. Blaine focuses on Rory. "What about you?"

"I think I'm going to sing _Don't Stop Me Now_by Queen," he says, accent lilting slightly on Queen. By the time Rory was set to return to Ireland at the end of the last school year, he'd picked up enough Americanisms that his accent was barely noticeable to Blaine. A few short weeks back, and Blaine sometimes forgets that Rory's an exchange student, except when that lilt in his voice returns. "It was my mum's favorite when I was little. She played it all the time. Do you think that's what Mr. Schue wants? Or should I go with something else?"

Heads all swivel back to Blaine once more. He still remembers standing there in the choir room in May during their last week of school, as Finn had settled his hand on Blaine's shoulder and announced him as the new captain of New Directions. Rachel had clapped her hands enthusiastically while Kurt had beamed at him from the front row and Tina had bounced excitedly in her chair. Blaine had tried to hand the position off to Artie but had quickly been out-voted by pretty much everyone in the group.

Except Sugar. She'd explained that she would make a far better, and far sexier captain than Blaine would.

"I think that's a perfect choice," Blaine says with a nod as his friends around him all immediately erupt into separate conversations about what they plan to sing for the assignment. Blaine shuts most of it out until Brittany lays her head on his shoulder.

"My dolphin's sad," she says quietly, entwining her arms around his arm beside her, and squeezing. "Didn't my flower cheer you up?"

"It did, Britt. Thanks."

"Kurt would never mean to hurt you. I bet if he saw the way you look right now, he'd come right here and tell you how sorry he was."

Blaine smiles a little at that and leans his head against hers. "I know he would."

"Blaaainnneee." Sugar stretches herself across the table to reach him, the tips of her fingers patting his hand as she pointedly ignores the look of annoyance Tina, who has to pull her tray out of the way, is flashing in her direction. "I think I have some ideas on how to recruit more members."

"Does it require any form of bondage or other forceful coercion?" Blaine finds himself asking.

Tina begins choking on the sip of Diet Coke she's just taken.

Sugar seems to consider his question seriously for a moment before shaking her head. "No. But one of the options does include bribery."

"Which is something we may have to resort to," Artie says, tapping an unopened straw against his finger thoughtfully. "Bondage could come in handy, too." He catches the wide-eyed looks of the others and quickly adds, "I mean, not for recruitment purposes."

"And on that note…" Blaine pats Brittany's arm before standing to grab his tray and tells his friends that he'll see them in glee club that afternoon.

Tina catches up with him at his locker, pushing the door open wider to check her hair in his mirror as he switches books. "Lima Bean after glee? I've got a chemistry exam I have to cram for tonight."

"Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?"

"Something like that." She spins around to lean her back against the lockers behind her and lowers her voice to say, "Besides, I heard Ana say that her cousin's best friend's brother saw Quinn and Puck at the Dairy Queen last night. I want to know what that's all about."

Blaine grins. "Surely friends are allowed to go to the Dairy Queen together without it being some huge deal."

"They're so on-again, off-again lately, I feel like I need to download an app to keep track of them." Tina grows quiet, watching Blaine as he pauses in his text book swapping to stare at the photo of him and Kurt at Senior Prom. "You okay, Boo?"

Blaine shrugs and shuts his locker. "You know me."

"Yes, I do. Which is why I'm asking." She reaches out for his arm as they start down the hall. "Have you thought about texting Kurt?"

"Not in the last two minutes or so."

Tina nods. "Mike says he thinks Kurt's just really stressed out with the internship right now."

"Wait. You've already talked to Mike about this?"

"We've been texting." Tina gives him a look that clearly says she's wondering why he didn't expect that. "He and Kurt went out for coffee the other day. He said Kurt was kind of distracted—"

"Distracted with figuring out how to break up with me—Ow!"

Tina frowns at him after she punches him in the arm. "Unless you left out something in the retelling of your story, Kurt said no such thing to you. Personally I think you're both just behaving like boys, and Mike agrees."

"Well, I can't see what the problem is here other than the fact that Kurt and I_are_ boys—_Ow_!"

"Don't be contrary," she says, rubbing his arm where she hit him. "You know what I mean. There's a good way to behave like boys, and a bad way. And right now I think you're behaving in the bad way."

Blaine shakes his head. "I love you, T. But just now, I didn't understand a single word you said."

Tina purses her lips and rolls her eyes. "You're both being stupid. Does that break it down enough for you? Or should I try moronic? Idiotic? Stubborn? Ridiculous?—"

"All right! All right!" Blaine laughs a little, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it. Do you think I should call him or text him or what? Since you're apparently a master at this relationship stuff."

Tina stops abruptly and raises an eyebrow at Blaine as she holds a finger up in his face. "Mike and I have been together for more than two years now, true?"

"Umm, true."

"We've had the occasional fights, yes, but have we ever once split up?"

Blaine shakes his head.

"And now, here he is, off in New York following his dreams at Alvin Ailey, and we're both perfectly content and more in love than ever, yes?"

Blaine nods, eyes widening as Tina settles both of her hands on her hips.

"Name another couple in this crazy ass, backwards institution that has pulled that off?"

"Ummm—"

"Exactly. Now name one that will follow in our rather perfect example?"

Blaine blinks, and cautiously says, "Me and Kurt…?"

"You and Kurt." Tina reaches over and pats his cheek. "You love Kurt, Blaine. You're head over heels crazy about him, and you always have been. Do what you feel you should do in this situation, okay? Go with your heart." She stabs her finger against his chest. "It's the place you seem to work best from."

Blaine draws in a breath and smiles as he leans over to press a kiss to Tina's cheek. "What would I do without you, T?"

"Be miserable and angsty and not at all the Blaine Anderson we all know and love," she replies with a smile. "See you in glee, Boo."

* * *

><p>"<em>You've reached future Broadway star, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. I can't take your call right now, but if you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I have a chance<em>."

"….Hi. It's me. I know you're busy with everything but I just wanted to leave a message to say I'm sorry for coming off as a brat last night or… well, I'm sorry for just ending our chat the way I did. And that I didn't answer your call right away. I just… I miss you. And I know that's not an excuse or anything for behaving like an ass but, I don't really know how else to explain it. Anyway, I have to run to glee but I just wanted to call and let you know…. If you're too busy to call back, I understand. I… I love you, Kurt."

* * *

><p>"You absolutely pulled that song out of your ass, Anderson, and don't deny it," Rose Wilson says, flashing a look over her shoulder at him before yanking the door to the Lima Bean open. "My superpower is observance, and I totally observed your eyes popping out of your head in panic when Schue called on you first."<p>

"You have superpowers?" Brittany stares at her fellow cheerleader as she follows her inside.

"It was rambling around in the back of my mind," Blaine replies, waving his hands around his head. "I never just pull things out of my ass—" He stops himself abruptly at the expression on the Cheerio's face as she stares at him.

Rose holds up her hand a moment between them and then shakes her head. "No, that one's too easy. I'm gonna let it go because you're cute, and you're one hell of a running back."

Blaine lets out a quick breath of relief. "Thank you."

Brittany leans between them and whispers, "Why are we talking about Blaine's ass?"

"Well, it's not as if it's a bad thing to talk about," Rose says, leaning back slightly to take a look at Blaine's backside.

Blaine feels his face flush under her scrutiny, and it only grows worse when Brittany follows her lead. "Okay. Enough with embarrassing Blaine. Time for a new topic—"

"What new topic?" Tina asks, moving up behind them as she gazes at her cell phone a moment before tucking it into her messenger bag.

"We were talking about Blaine's ass," Brittany informs her with a smile.

"Oh, good topic."

"Right?" Rose spreads her hands wide as she raises her eyebrows in Blaine's direction.

"Oh my god." Blaine pushes ahead of them with a sigh to get in line. "You guys go grab a booth. I'll get our drinks."

"Such a fine assed gentleman," Rose purrs as she walks away with Brittany and Tina, the three of them erupting into giggles.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine pulls out his phone to text Kurt in order to ask how he has always handled hanging out with girls, and stops himself just before he can begin typing. Oh. Right. He hasn't heard back from Kurt yet. And he knows in his message he'd said Kurt could take his time to respond but… well, Blaine has kind of been hoping Kurt would have tried to get back to him as soon as possible. He rubs the pad of his thumb over his screen, the picture of him and Kurt laughing together staring back at him, before slipping it back into his pocket and stepping up to the counter.

"Well, hello there, stranger," Quinn greets with a smile as she looks over at him. "I see you brought your harem with you."

Blaine glances over his shoulder toward the corner booth where the three girls have huddled together, looking at something on Rose's phone. "Rory made plans with some friend from his math class, and Aaron doesn't drink coffee. I practically pleaded with Artie but he said he had decisions to make regarding casting."

"Well, you look like you're in hell."

"I spent two years at an all-boy's school, Quinn." Blaine smiles across the counter at her. "Conversations rarely ever centered on my ass… Well, there was that one time, but Thad had too much to drink."

Quinn's eyes sparkle in amusement. "I'm sure." She turns her attention to the register. "The usual?"

"Please. And a skinny vanilla latte, and two non-fat caramel lattes."

Quinn's gaze swings to the display before returning to Blaine. "Is that all?"

Hesitating only a moment, Blaine leans over to peer through the glass, eyes sweeping across the various pastries before he presses a finger against the display toward a tray on the second row. "And one of those chocolate chocolate chip cookies."

Quinn waits.

"Okay, two." He hands over some money, waiting as she returns his change to him. "How are classes going?"

"Good. I think I made the right decision hitting JC this year while I try to decide what I'm really interested in." She shrugs as she closes the register drawer. "Almost daily I find myself changing my mind. Who knows where I'll end up? Go on and sit down. We're not very busy so I'll bring it all over when it's ready."

"Thanks, Quinn." Blaine gives her a quick smile before making his way through the coffee shop.

"You're just in time, B," Rose calls out as Blaine slides into the booth beside Tina.

"Why am I terrified?"

"Aaron. Yay or nay?" She asks, ignoring his question.

Blaine blinks at her, glancing at Tina and Brittany who are both watching him intently. "Yay or nay what?"

"Do you consider him a hottie? Totally doable? Like, if you were available, and he were gay—"

"I don't _think_you're trying to be offensive, but I could be wrong," Blaine interrupts, scowling at her.

Rose rolls her eyes at him. "Don't get your panties in a twist. He's the current topic of conversation, and if you don't want to participate, then fine. Boring, but fine. Whatevs."

Feeling a little like he might have disappointed them, Blaine glances from one face to the other before looking over at Tina. "What was the consensus?" he asks quietly.

"Total hottie."

"And you agree?"

It's Tina's turn to roll her eyes. "Duh. I may love Mike, Blaine, but I'm not _dead_."

Blaine fidgets as he finds the girls looking at him expectantly again. "He, uh, isn't really my type, honestly," he says to the apparent dismay of his friends.

"Are you crazy?"

"You can tell us the truth, Blaine. We won't share."

"Are we still talking about Blaine's ass?"

"What about Blaine's ass?" Quinn asks Brittany as she steps up to the table and sets down their order.

Blaine is two seconds from slamming his forehead against the tabletop as he grabs his medium drip and cookies and proceeds to glare at Quinn as she settles on the edge of the seat beside Brittany on the other side of the table. "Don't encourage them." He bites into a cookie.

"Speaking of asses," Tina begins as Blaine groans. She leans across the table, tapping a finger at Quinn. "What's up with you and Puck at the Diary Queen?"

"Ugh. We're just friends, Tina."

Blaine tunes out the majority of the resulting conversation, worried that if he seems too intent on what's happening with the latest gossip between Quinn and Puck, they'll decide to ask him if he thinks Puck's a hottie, and he is definitely not getting drawn into that debate. Those conversations were restricted to late night chats with Kurt, which inevitably always ended in tears of laughter as they'd tease one another over their differing tastes in men.

_God_, he misses Kurt. More than he could have thought possible. Not just Kurt his_boyfriend_, but Kurt his _best friend_, the one person in Blaine's life who has the uncanny ability to be everything to Blaine that he needs. Kurt gets that while Blaine has never been entirely comfortable sitting around gossiping with the girls and discussing who's hot among the student body males, he can spend hours at a time wandering through Brooks Brothers and trying on dozens of combinations of outfits. Kurt gets that sometimes Blaine just needs to spend hours blowing things up in video games (and the day that Blaine discovered Kurt was the biggest badass at Halo he had ever met will forever live in Blaine's mind as one of the greatest days ever—even if he isn't allowed to tell anyone), and that he'd rather hang out with Finn and Puck watching the game than giving one another facials with Rachel and Mercedes.

Blaine supposes that's why he and Kurt have always clicked so well. They're different, there's no denying that, but they share enough of the same interests and understanding to make it work. Blaine loves that Kurt is one of the most amazing cooks he's ever met—because Blaine loves to eat. He loves the fact that while he's a little more trendy when it comes to fashion, Kurt is far more individualized, and will tell Blaine when he needs to add a touch here or there to make an outfit more personal. Blaine loves that Kurt introduced him to proper skin care, something which Blaine never forgets now, even when they don't have the chance to do it together. And he loves that while he may know a few things about cars from what he learned while working on the Chevy with his father, Kurt knows everything about cars, and behaves like its nothing; like he's merely commenting on the weather when he tells you it sounds like you're timing belt is going, and you really ought to get a new one.

More than anything though, Blaine loves the contradictions of Kurt, and the fact that he's never been able to second-guess him, never been able to anticipate what he'll do or say. He meant it last year when he'd told Kurt he loves that he tends to zig when Blaine expects him to zag, and Blaine doubts that will ever change. Even now when Blaine simply cannot bring himself to understand why Kurt has been so silent, as if he's purposely withdrawing from Blaine. If there is one thing Blaine does understand about Kurt, it's the blanket of defensiveness he wraps around himself. A self-imposed layer of protection borne from years of pain and rejection. From the moment they met, Blaine has been one of the few people Kurt has allowed past that, though there are times when he has to fight a little—never pushing, always just reaching out—until Kurt drops the veneer of remoteness enough to let Blaine in, and he hopes that this is one of those times. Those are always the best moments because deep inside, Kurt is soft and warm like fleece, and more often than not the only thing Blaine wants in the world is to wrap himself up in that, and hide away from the rest of the world forever.

The truth is, Blaine often finds himself wondering what it is that Kurt sees in him, why in the world Kurt Hummel would choose to be with Blaine Anderson, when there's really nothing all that spectacular or interesting about him. And it's thoughts like that one that have made the week unbearable; that have his stomach churning with queasiness even as he tries to force down what's usually his favorite cookie. It's the thought that maybe, just maybe, Kurt has finally come to the realization that Blaine isn't good enough, or interesting enough, or worth waiting for, and that's why they fought, that's why Kurt seems so disinterested in anything to do with Blaine anymore.

The hurt those thoughts cause is something Blaine tries very hard to ignore, to push toward the back of his mind where he hides similar insecurities regarding how his own father feels about him. They're the same fears that sometimes make it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. They aren't always there; more often than not, Blaine considers himself to be one of the least angst-filled teenagers he knows. It's not as if he sits in a dark room listening to Evanescence while writing poetry about the pain life inflicts on him. Whenever he does complain, he instantly feels guilty because honestly, so many people are worse off than him, and so what if his father has a habit of making him feel like the worst thing he's ever done in life was making the decision to be himself? He still has a home. A roof over his head. A mother who, while mostly absent, has never hidden her love for him. A boyfriend who—

Blaine draws a breath and allows himself to rejoin the conversation at the table; Tina is recounting last year's competition performances for Rose. He focuses on her words for a moment, because he doesn't want to think about Kurt right now. Doesn't want to think about the fact that he is counting each passing minute by the fact that he hasn't heard back from him yet, and Blaine knows that's the reason for his continuing spiral into teenage ridden angst this week. He can't be happy because one of his main forms of happiness over the past two years seems to be abandoning him.

"You okay?"

Blaine lifts his head to find Quinn scooting into the seat beside him, her hand lying gently over his arm. He finds a smile. "Yeah. Just… " When he realizes she's waiting for him to continue, he can only bring himself to admit, "Kurt and I. There was a… thing last night, and I'm just worried."

Quinn's brow furrows for a moment before she leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "If there is one thing I have never worried about, it's you and Kurt." Her fingers curl around his wrist in a light squeeze. "But if you need to talk, you know where to find me."

* * *

><p>Friday morning dawns the same as the other mornings that week. Blaine is staring at his phone when the alarm goes off; as if the longer and harder he stares, the bigger the possibility that Kurt will magically text or call through sheer force of Blaine's will. Disappointment floods him, and he yanks the covers over his head, turning his face into his pillow, and screams. He feels a little better once it's out—a little less like throwing his phone on the floor and stomping on it until only tiny pieces of it is left. The overwhelming frustration passes as swiftly as it hit, and he sits up, running a hand through his hair as he glances toward his messenger bag. It's the Titans bye week, which means no game tonight. Which also means if Kurt doesn't call today, Blaine has the entire evening to mope.<p>

Awesome.

Standing in the shower, face upturned into the warm water, Blaine imagines multiple scenarios leading to resolution between whatever is going on between him and Kurt. Three of them end rather badly, and he doesn't want to be that guy, the pessimistic one who drowns himself in Dashboard Confessional every time his boyfriend forgets to say gesundheit. Scenario number four has Blaine using his father's credit card to buy a flight to New York, dropping in on Rachel and Kurt's doorstop, and begging—on his knees—for Kurt to forgive him for being a childish brat and never, ever make him feel this worried again. The fifth scenario is ridiculously sunny and optimistic, and the least likely of all four, involving red roses and candy from Kurt along with a flowery and poetic apology written in Kurt's looping, and sometimes difficult to read, script. It would be waiting for Blaine when he got home that afternoon, along with a promise to spend the entire night on Skype repeating I love you to one another until they passed out from exhaustion.

When Blaine dreams, he dreams big.

There are two messages from Tina when he wanders back into his bedroom, rubbing a towel over his curls while scratching at an itch just about the waistband of his boxer briefs.

**From: T (1/2)**  
><strong>Dress choice: yellow or pink?<strong>

**From: T (2/2)**  
><strong>Do u think we should bring Artie donuts or something this am?<strong>

Grinning, Blaine texts back quickly as he moves over to his closet.

**To: T**  
><strong>You were wearing yellow on Monday. Besides, you're pretty in pink. Don't think bribery works wArtie. & he doesn't like donuts.**

He's debating between the black or red polo when he receives her response.

**From: T (1/1)**  
><strong>Now I have that song stuck in my head. You know I hate the '80's!<strong>

**To: T**  
><strong>Bite your tongue!<strong>

By the time Blaine makes it downstairs he and Tina have discussed their own choices for the cast list, what the mystery meat will be in the cafeteria that day, whether or not they could pull off Trick or Treating next month, and who has the biggest dick—Chris Hemsworth or Chris Evans. He texts that he'll see her in English as he reaches the bottom step before tucking his phone into his pocket and lifting his head, sniffing the air with a small frown.

Coffee. Ridiculously strong with two too many scoops. The familiar tightness settles in his stomach and Blaine draws in a breath as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, forcing a cheerful smile to his face.

"Morning!" He calls out to his father, who's sitting at the breakfast bar with gaze trained on a copy of the New York Times. Blaine hears a brief grunt in return as he pulls the refrigerator open, glancing over the shelves before grabbing the carton of milk.

There's silence as he pulls a glass from the cupboard and pours himself a glass before returning the milk to the refrigerator. Blaine takes a small sip, gaze flickering toward his father as he searches for something to say. It wasn't always like this, of course, not before. Not when Blaine had simply been Robert Anderson's youngest son, when they used to toss a football or grill hamburgers in the backyard, and plan camping trips that inevitably ended with Blaine or Blake, or sometimes both of them covered in hives from poison ivy.

Until one day when it all just… stopped.

Blaine's mother says he's imagining things; that he's making it out to be worse than it really is, and he just needs to give his father more time. Except it's been over four years now, and his father still can't seem to look him in the eye for more than a second at a time, and rarely have they ever had conversation that lasted for more than a few minutes.

"Mom at work?" he finally asks, licking the milk from the top of his lip before setting his glass down in search of Pop Tarts.

"Mmm. Meeting in Pittsburgh. She'll be back Sunday."

Blaine chews on the inside of his cheek as he stares at the Pop Tarts warming inside the toaster. He knows his father well enough to realize he likely won't be around much, either. His work as legal counsel for Kaiser Permanente takes him away a lot, not only in Ohio but to other locations in the country as well. And sometimes, Blaine's fairly certain, Robert Anderson makes up excuses to be out of the house.

"Game tonight?"

Blaine looks up quickly at the question. "No. Ummm, bye week." As his father drops his gaze back to the paper, Blaine adds, "Home game next week, though. Will you, uh, think you'll be able to attend?"

"Probably. How's the team doing?" His father lays the paper back down and reaches out for his coffee as he glances over at Blaine.

"Three and one," Blaine says with a smile, ignoring his Pop Tarts to step closer to the breakfast bar, leaning forward on the counter with his elbows. "The Indians lucked out on a bad call from the refs. Coach Beiste said he was apparently the brother-in-law to their coach or something?" He shrugs and rolls his eyes a bit.

"You doing okay out there?"

Blaine's a little surprised at the question; touched, if he were perfectly honest with himself. A little voice warns him his father's only asking such a thing in case Blaine's high school football career is destined to be a very short one. "Yeah. I'm good. I mean, it's not like I'm out there trying to get tackled. The point is to make it to the end zone before that happens, right?" He smiles.

Blaine's father shrugs as he sips at his coffee and glances toward the paper again. "You haven't exactly been involved in many contact sports in the last few years, Blaine."

It's difficult not the wince at that. When the toaster dings, Blaine turns away from his father to grab the heated pastries, wrapping them in a paper towel to eat on the way to school. He knows he should let his father's comment go, but he spins back around and replies, "Polo wasn't exactly knitting, Dad. Nor was fencing. Or self-defense class or—you know what? Forget it. Whatever. My week's been crappy enough as it is without getting into this debate with you again."

"No one was debating anything, Blaine. I was simply pointing out a fact." His father snapped the paper shut before sliding off the stool. "You're the one who enjoys twisting my words to make yourself out to be the victim."

Blaine stares, silent and a bit regretful as his father carries his coffee cup over to the sink to wash it out, and then leaves without another word.

* * *

><p><strong>To: Rachel<strong>  
><strong>I left Kurt a message last night but haven't heard back. I don't know if you're up to date but… could you let me know if he's okay?<strong>

**From: Rachel (1/1)**  
><strong>I think he just needs time. You know Kurt. I'm very certain you'll hear from him soon! I promise! 333 ~RB<strong>

* * *

><p>Had Blaine spent his summer taking courses at the local community college, he honestly could have been graduating come December. The discussion had actually taken place both with his parents, and with Kurt. In the end, the cons outweighed the pros, and both he and Kurt had acknowledged that the only reason they'd seriously discussed it was in order to be together that much sooner. It wasn't necessary to kill himself with summer courses and sneaking in SAT's and ACT's when he could, just to try to get accepted into NYADA for the spring semester. His parents had point blanked asked him if this was just to be with his boyfriend, and Blaine had felt awful for lying and saying "no", when actually the answer had been "yes", and his guilt had been one more reason listed beneath the ever-growing column of cons.<p>

The other reason, honestly, had been New Directions. From the moment Finn had passed the baton of captain to him for the upcoming school year, Blaine has struggled under a responsibility not only to the few members left in the group, but to Mr. Schuester as well. Like Coach Beiste losing her star players from the Titans, the star members of New Directions graduated en masse—the ones who built the club up from the ground, guiding it every painful step of the way toward victory last year at Nationals—leaving the club ridiculously barren and in need of rebuilding. Blaine couldn't wrap his mind around abandoning them when it really wasn't necessary, so _abandoning New Directions_ had also ended up listed among the column of cons. (When he'd checked the list a few weeks later, he'd been amused to find those words scratched out, and Kurt's somewhat sloppy handwriting had rewritten _giving up on taking your place as rightful star among New Directions and leading them to another victory at Nationals_.)

With very few credits actually needed this semester and next in order to graduate, Blaine fills one of his classes each week as TA to Mr. Schuester for his Spanish classes. Even though Blaine hasn't taken a day of Spanish in his life, it works out because they both know he's not actually there to grade papers—he's there to work on glee club. It's actually a perfect arrangement since it offers Blaine the opportunity to assist in choosing assignments each week, and steer his teacher away from his penchant for Easy Listening. While Blaine loves music from all eras, even he has grown a little tired of singing songs from a genre that disappeared along with feathered hair and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans.

Of course, first things first. Sectionals are two months away, and even with the win at Nationals, the glee club doesn't exactly have students beating down its doors, begging to be a part of it all. They currently have a total of eight members—not bad considering how they'd started off the year before with half the club defecting to a new group. With six of the members left over from last year, plus Rose, who Brittany had coerced over from the Cheerios, and Aaron, a surprising addition who had approached Blaine his first day on the Titans, asking if they wouldn't mind a not half-bad quarterback signing backup, they have a solid foundation. If they need to drag the band members into the group again, they will, but Blaine keeps coming back to the understanding that some of their strongest singers—Rachel, Kurt, Mercedes, Santana—are no longer with them. They can't win Nationals again, or hell, even Regionals, with band members mouthing "watermelon" behind them.

"I know they haven't been enormously successful in the past, but I keep coming back to a pep rally performance," Blaine offers, tapping the end of his pen against his lips as he stares across the room at the white board where Mr. Schuester is writing out that afternoon's assignment for Spanish II. "Something big, though, where the student body is really into it. Maybe… the Homecoming pep rally?"

Mr. Schuester pauses in his scribbles, sounding out the words of what he's just written as if he isn't entirely certain it's correct, before nodding slightly as he finishes the sentence on the board. "Just no Britney, or you'll have Sue setting off fire alarms."

Blaine crosses Britney Spears off his list of music ideas, having had forgotten about that story. "We could gear up and start plastering the halls in flyers, maybe with photos from last year's Nationals performance," Blaine is writing quickly across the paper in front of him as the ideas come to him, "and we could always ask Figgins to pipe our performance into the cafeteria over lunch a couple of days." He stops and looks up, frowning a little. "Although, that has the potential to end badly. While Azimio and Karofsky appear to be relics of the past around here, I can't imagine Kurt and I singing Come What May over the speakers through the halls of McKinley wouldn't end in a slushie bath for yours truly." He crosses off_Pipe Nationals performance over speakers_.

"Speaking of Kurt, how's he doing?" Mr. Schuester turns from the white board, apparently missing the way Blaine's face falls at the question. "Has he taken New York by storm, yet?"

Blaine forces a smile to his face, tone far more light-hearted than he feels. "Oh, you know Kurt. It's now a race to see whose name will be up in lights first—his or Rachel's."

"And soon you'll be added to that race," Schuester tells him with a smile as he rounds his, desk to lean against the front, crossing his arms over his chest as he regards Blaine for a moment. "The three of you there in the big city, sweeping the Tony's one day."

Blaine flushes and shakes his head with a laugh. "I hardly think you can put me in the same category as them, Mr. Schue. They're stars. I just," he searches for the right words, "have fun. Don't get me wrong, it's what I _want_to do. It's what I love to do. But, I'm pretty content with the thought of paying my dues in chorus."

Mr. Schuester is giving him one of those looks that Blaine has become rather familiar with over the last year or so. The one where the glee director is disappointed in what's just been said; disappointed and thoughtful to the extent where Blaine grows uncomfortable with the intent stare and drops his eyes back to the paper in front of him to write out a few more ideas for glee club promotion.

"Blaine." His teacher pauses until Blaine gives in and looks up at him. "You're just as worthy of one day having your name up in lights as either of them, and in some ways, more so. While one couldn't possibly deny Kurt's talent and determination, the sad fact is that roles for him will always be slightly limited until someone like him forces a change. As for Rachel," Schuester smiles with the fondness of a teacher who's guided their student through some of their less-than-complimentary behavior, "you carry with you an almost crippling humility. It makes you likable. Makes people respond to you positively. Even if it also has a tendency to make you sell yourself short."

"Was that a carefully placed short joke, Mr. Schue?" Blaine says with an uncomfortable laugh as he attempts to steer the conversation in another direction.

"Blaine—"

"I'll present my ideas in glee next week, and maybe we can get to work on recruiting those last four members," Blaine continues as he gets up, noting that the bell is going to ring in a few minutes anyway. "I still think the pep rally is a possibility, with the right song choice."

Mr. Schuester is still eying him far too closely, like he's trying to figure something about Blaine out. Blaine hates it when people try to read him. The only person who's ever correctly learned to assess his moods and thoughts is Kurt, and it feels like a gaping wound every single time Kurt has ever peeled back another layer and discovered another part of him. Blaine had grown so comfortable during his time at Dalton hiding behind the blazer and the tie, looking like one of dozens of other boys, and if not for Kurt, he'd still be there, comfortable in his disguise. Kurt is still one of the few people in Blaine's life that he feels entirely at ease with seeing the real Blaine Anderson—fears and faults and insecurities all wrapped up in a pretty bow—and it's instinctual for Blaine to immediately slip behind his comfortable mask of geniality when someone starts to push.

"Blaine, is something wrong?"

So much for hiding it, but Blaine doesn't want to stand there and discuss his relationship woes with his teacher. He doesn't want to admit that his biggest fear of Kurt leaving him behind in Lima while he took off to New York has always been that in the end, Blaine wouldn't be enough for Kurt. Not bright enough, not amazing enough, not ever capable of possessing that extra special sparkling_something_that Kurt has, and deserves to have in his partner. Admissions like that are followed up by platitudes that people like teachers and parents, and even close friends, are forced to offer up like "don't talk like that", "you're far more special than you know", and other things that Blaine has trouble accepting when his boyfriend thinks he's childish, and not worth calling or texting or pretending he exists.

"Not at all, Mr. Schue." Blaine smiles and tucks his notes into his binder, backing toward the door just as the bell sounds. "Just nervous because the cast list goes up today, I guess. Have a good weekend."

* * *

><p>"I feel like I'm gonna throw up," Tina bemoans beside Blaine before dropping her forehead against his shoulder and whimpering.<p>

They're leaning against the row of lockers just down the hall and facing the bulletin board where Artie will be posting the cast list any moment now. Twice, Blaine has been tempted to just ignore it, pack up his things and head home for the weekend; wait for the inevitable text from Tina. She'd begged him to stay with her though, for moral support, and within minutes of securing their position in the hall, they'd been joined by Sugar, Rory, Rose and Brittany. The halls were steadily growing more deserted as the last classes of the day ended, and the small group received one or two odd looks from passing students until Rose began threatening them with physical violence if they kept staring so hard.

"What's taking him so long?" Sugar asks as she leans her head on Blaine's other shoulder with a loud sigh.

"Well, I can't say it's going to be the easiest show to cast," Blaine replies. "Artie doesn't know half the people who auditioned, and if it weren't for Coach Beiste and Coach Sylvester convincing some of the athletes to audition, I'm not entirely certain he could fill out the cast at all."

Coach Sylvester's agreement to assist in gathering students to audition had been pleasantly surprising. Artie had told Blaine he was insane for even asking, but for as much as the majority of what came out of Sue Sylvester's mouth continually confused the hell out of Blaine, she didn't scare him the way she seemed to scare so many others. He'd just wandered into her office, smiled at her as she referred to him by a variety of nicknames that he found far more complimentary than insulting (he's pretty certain the Muppet comparison was supposed to be an insult due to his eyebrows, but Blaine loved the Muppets, so he had no problem with it), and then point blank asked if she could help them get some students to the audition. Coach Sylvester had agreed, but on one condition: when she needed a favor in return, Blaine couldn't say no. Blaine's still mildly horrified as to when, and exactly _what_the favor may turn out to be, but at least he'd succeeded in providing plenty of students for Artie to fill out the cast for the musical.

"Oh! Here he comes!" Sugar exclaims, straightening to clutch to Blaine's right arm even as Tina grabs his left.

They all grow silent as they watch Artie roll up to the bulletin board, a piece of paper on his lap. He glances over his shoulder at them, nodding once, a hint of amusement quickly replaced by a stern mask of professionalism as he grabs a lone tack from the board and reaches up, posting the list above him. Blaine winces as he feels Sugar's nails digging into his arm; the entire group leans forward slightly as one, poised to race toward the board the moment Artie leaves. Their friend lingers though, for just a moment, pretending to glance over the other notices tacked around the list.

Rose sighs loudly and pushes away from the lockers. "Oh for god's sake, let's just get this over with already!" She announces, leading the group toward Artie as they peel away to follow her, one by one, Blaine and Tina lagging slightly behind the rest.

"Who's Laverne?" Rose calls out as Artie pulls back from the group, pressing his fingers together beneath his chin as he watches them. She's looking back at Blaine because he's apparently the only one who knows anything about _Guys and Dolls_.

"She's a friend of Adelaide," he tells her. "Kind of a bitch. Hates Nathan."

"Awesome." Rose swings away from the board happily.

"Adelaide's a good part, right?" Brittany glances over at him as Blaine hangs back while Tina fights her way through the small crowd toward the front.

"She's one of the leads, Britt," Blaine says, leaning up on the balls of his feet slightly to see over the heads in front of him. "She has a few dance numbers, too."

Blaine's gaze isn't on the list so much as it's on Tina as he watches her successfully make it up to the board, eyes widening as a smile beams across her face.

"Is that the cast list?"

Blaine looks over his shoulder to see Aaron walking up behind him, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a couple of the other football players milling behind him. "Yeah. Artie just—"

"I got Sarah!" Tina interrupts, throwing her arms around Blaine's neck. "I'm playing Sergeant Sarah Brown! Oh, and you're Sky, of course. As if any of us had a doubt." She looks over at Aaron, pointing a finger at him. "And you, sir, are Nathan Detroit. Which I really thought Rory would get, but I suppose it makes sense."

"Wait. Rory didn't get Nathan?" Blaine asks confused as he glances toward Artie across the hall, then back toward the bulletin board where Rory is lingering, staring at the paper. "Did Rory—?"

"He's playing Nicely Nicely," Tina informs him, and Blaine finds himself nodding as Artie rolls his chair over to join them.

"He'll also be taking the lines for Benny Southstreet," Artie says. "It's easier to combine the two roles. Rory's voice is strong enough to carry the songs, while I think you and Aaron would be far more interesting contrasts in the main roles."

Blaine and Aaron look at one another.

"A black Nathan Detroit and a gay Pinoy Sky Masterson," Aaron says with a laugh as he claps Artie on the shoulder, moving around his chair. "Artie, my friend, I'm not sure if you're a genius or totally out of your mind. See you guys next week."

Blaine laughs.

"Why am I a general?"

Sugar stands with her hands on her hips, glaring down at Artie.

"General Cartwright is the leader of the Salvation Army," Artie tells his girlfriend, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. "It's a good role for you."

"Oh. Well." She smiles and preens before settling comfortably on his lap and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"When do rehearsals begin?" Tina asks, bouncing lightly on her feet as she takes hold of Blaine's arm. "Oh, I can't wait to call Mike!"

Blaine tunes out of the conversation as Artie begins discussing the rehearsal schedule with the small group. He knows that like last year, he and Coach Beiste had worked out the rehearsal and football schedules so that they won't conflict with one another. Blaine's looking forward to the busy schedule, if he's perfectly honest with himself. With his schedule full, he's left with less time to sit around and think about how he'd spent his afternoons last year, almost always in Kurt's company, studying, hanging out at the North Hills mall, gazing at one another over coffee at the Lima Bean, taking every opportunity for privacy to further explore and memorize every inch of one another's bodies.

"—to celebrate?"

Blinking, Blaine looks over at Tina, just catching that she was talking to him. "I'm sorry. What?"

"I asked if you want to head to the Lima Bean to grab some coffee to celebrate? It's on me!"

"No. I mean," he grabs the strap of his bag and drops his gaze to the floor, "I'm not very good company right now. I think I'd rather just go home."

Tina offers him a sympathetic look. She leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. "He'll call," she whispers, and gives his arm a squeeze. "I know he will."

Blaine wishes he could have her faith, but so far, nothing this week has worked out the way he'd been hoping.

* * *

><p>A familiar Navigator is sitting parked in front of the Anderson home when Blaine turns the corner. He's so shocked at the sight of it that he almost drives right past. It can't possibly be Kurt because Kurt is in New York, and not scheduled to come back to Lima until the second weekend in October when he has four days off, and Rachel certainly couldn't have responded to him earlier that day without telling him… could she? Oh god, it is Kurt because Blaine sees him through the window as he drives by and pulls into the driveway.<p>

Putting his Camaro in park, Blaine just sits there, terrified of opening the door, of stepping out, because there can only be one reason Kurt is there, and he doesn't want to hear it. He can't hear it. For a moment, he wonders if maybe that's the problem—he hasn't told Kurt enough just how much his life revolves around him. How much Blaine doesn't think he can live without him. How difficult just these few short weeks have been. Maybe if he'd said something, Kurt wouldn't be here now, likely to collect the DVD's and CD's and clothes of Kurt's that Blaine has scattered around his room. The over-sized Rick Owen's black cashmere sweater that kind of looks ridiculous on Blaine, and comes down past his knees, but he still loves to wrap himself in it at night after homework, curling up on his bed to watch TV and just smell and feel his boyfriend all around him. The little notepad of Kurt's that he'd carried with him his entire time at Dalton, and in between the drawings of Pavarotti and sketches of outfits are doodles of his name, and Kurt's name, and hearts, and Kurt's name with his hyphenated and I love Blaine and so many other things that when Blaine had accidentally found it last year, it had brought him to tears. He keeps it by his bedside, and flips through it sometimes, smiling because Kurt had waited for him, had thought he was worth waiting for.

Finally gathering enough courage to open his door, Blaine takes his time reaching in for his messenger bag, pretending like he's looking for something. He hears the Navigator door close, and soon the sound of footfalls coming up behind him. Swallowing, Blaine takes a breath and hooks his bag over his shoulder before turning around, quietly closing his door behind him.

Kurt looks… tired. There are dark circles under his eyes—something he's always very careful about not letting happen—and his skin isn't quite as vibrant and glowing as Blaine is used to seeing. Worse still, he's dressed in skinny jeans, motorcycle boots and Blaine's Dalton sweatshirt.

Wait. His sweatshirt?

Blinking, Blaine meets Kurt's gaze, a little confused but lifting his chin bravely. "If… if you drove all of the way here just to get y-your things, I c-could've mailed them to you."

Kurt's head moves slightly to the side and his brow furrows. He seems to catch Blaine's meaning when his eyes widen slightly. "Blaine," he begins softly—

And god, Blaine actually misses the simple sound of his voice—

"Do you want to break up?"

"No!" Blaine drops his head and takes a breath, realizing he probably just made a complete fool of himself answering that so quickly, so vehemently. His eyes sting as he feels tears gathering in them, and he tries so, so hard to hold them back. Kurt doesn't need to see him crying over this. Not when he's already accused him of behaving childishly.

"Blaine, look at me."

For a moment, he resists, wishing that Kurt would just get this over with so Blaine could curl up in bed, in Kurt's sweater, and try to get over the love he knows he'll never actually get over. But then Kurt's fingers are pressing against Blaine's chin, bringing his head up, and Kurt's right there, in his space, and Blaine's missed him so much that having him so near is making it difficult to breathe. His chest aches and his throat is tight, and he sucks in a sharp breath as Kurt's hands settle on his cheeks, cupping his face gently.

"I'm so sorry," he begins softly. "I didn't—I'm not sure what came over me. This has been so much more difficult than I thought, you know? I miss you so much that I have trouble not thinking about you. I have trouble concentrating, and even when I think I'm having fun, I'm really not because you're not there with me. Every single day I worry that you're going to forget about me, and sometimes… god, Blaine, sometimes I find myself regretting going to away, wondering if I should have stayed here in Ohio." He drops his gaze, shaking his head just a bit. "Those thoughts terrify me because I don't want to do something stupid… something I might blame you for later."

Swallowing, Blaine looks away quickly, nodding just a little in response to Kurt's words. This is it, he thinks. Kurt's going to end it now because it's not as easy as we thought it would be. It hurts too much, and Blaine gets that, but he can't help but think it will hurt even worse knowing he and Kurt are no longer together. Blaine loves him too much, needs him too much to just… let him go.

"I… I understand," he lies, refusing to look back at Kurt because he knows he won't be able control his emotions.

"No, you don't." There's a small note of amusement in Kurt's tone, enough to bring Blaine's gaze back to him. Kurt's hands press slightly against his cheeks. "The reason I disappeared for a few days was because I thought, stupidly, that if I could just ignore you from time to time, it'd be easier to be away from you. But it wasn't. It was torture. And the other night, when we got on Skype, I just… I guess I was expecting you to look and act as miserable as I felt. But you weren't. You were your usual cheerful, wonderful self and I thought… " Kurt sighs and shrugs. "I thought maybe you didn't miss me as much as I missed you, and it upset me even more."

Blaine's eyes widen as Kurt explains, and he shakes his head wildly at the end. "I was terrified, Kurt. I thought maybe you decided you didn't want to wait for me anymore or found someone else, and when you logged on, I was just so happy. I wanted to tell you how worried I was, but I didn't want to annoy you, or burden you with my silly fears when you seemed to have so much going on with school."

Kurt half-laughs and leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. "We were much, much better at this when there wasn't six hundred miles between us."

Blaine blinks back the moisture he still feels in his eyes as he gazes up at the ones staring down at him. "If you think we can't do this—"

"No." Kurt kisses him briefly, chaste, and it's enough to cause Blaine to inhale deeply, and just want more as Kurt pulls back just a little. "No. That's not what I'm saying. That's not why I drove out here the moment I could—I would have been here yesterday but I had my first exam. I came as soon as I possibly could because I needed to see you, and I know we both needed this to talk face to face, not on Skype, not over the phone, but here, where we can hold each other and feel each other and I just—god, Blaine, I love you so much and I need you to remember that. We both need to remember that if we're going to do this, okay?"

Blaine clings to him then, just wraps his arms around Kurt's waist and holds on because Kurt has _not_driven over eight hours that day to say goodbye forever to him. Quite the contrary, he's there to say that they are going to make it work, and to assure Blaine that he loves him, and that everything is going to be all right. He draws in a shaky breath and presses his face to Kurt's shoulder, and his arms maybe tighten just a bit around Kurt's waist until his boyfriend huffs out a laugh, pushing gently at Blaine's shoulders.

"The last time I had this much trouble breathing, I was wearing a corset."

"Sorry," Blaine murmurs and pulls back a little, not enough to let go but to loosely loop his arms around Kurt's waist. "It's just, I thought—"

"I know."

Kurt's sucking on his bottom lip as he gazes at Blaine, and there's something shining in his eyes, something he wants to say but either hasn't put together the words or the courage to say it yet. So Blaine just waits, and holds him because he's missed this—them just holding one another, looking at one another, sharing the same space, the same air. Blaine's thumbs move in tiny circles against the back of his old sweatshirt, and he kind of loves that Kurt needed that, to wear something of Blaine's just to have him close when they were both aching and uncertain. Blaine does it all the time; he knows he's needy, he knows Kurt is vital to him. It's just sometimes it's nice to be reminded that maybe he's a little bit vital to Kurt, too.

"There's something—" Kurt begins and stops himself, brow furrowing in apparent annoyance. He gives a small shake of his head and brings his gaze back to Blaine's, searching silently for a long moment, and Blaine can't help but wonder what he's looking for.

Honestly, he's a little stunned by the look in Kurt's eyes—it's too intent, too filled with certainty and uncertainty, and a passion Blaine's only glimpsed from him during competitions and Black Fridays. It scares Blaine, to see Kurt look at him like that because he knows that whatever it is Kurt is seeing inside of him, Blaine can't possibly live up to ever.

Kurt shakes his head again and looks away for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Blaine's. Reaching up, he cups Blaine's face between his hands, staying silent for a long moment before saying quietly, "It isn't easy, being there without you. Sometimes I want to reach for your hand as I'm walking down the street, but you're not there to reach for. I'll see a display in a store window and you're the first person I want to talk to about it. Having Rachel there is nice because it means I'm not alone but she's not you and—" Kurt breaks off, closing his eyes.

Taking in a sharp breath, Blaine's hold on Kurt tightens. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry I can't be there. I should have taken night courses and tried—"

"No." Kurt interrupts him with a brief, soft kiss. He's smiling again when he opens his eyes. "We talked about that and this isn't your fault. Things are how they are and," Kurt shrugs, "we're strong enough to deal with that. I get sad, and I know you do too, and I think maybe we just need to start focusing on the good things? Talk less about how much we miss each other and more about what we're going to do over Fall break and Thanksgiving and Christmas." Kurt slides his hands down Blaine's arms, curling their fingers together as he pulls Blaine's hands from his waist. "And I fully expect you to give me up-to-the-minute updates on _Guys and Dolls_. Rachel texted me that you got the part of Sky."

Blaine laughs. "How—"

"Tina texted Mike who's out with Rachel for coffee this afternoon." Kurt rolls his eyes a little. "Even six hundred miles apart, news travels fast among friends. Congratulations, though. I agree with Artie. You're going to make an amazing Sky."

Blaine flushes at Kurt's praise, and his fingers tighten in Kurt's. "Thank you." He glances toward his house, pleased for the moment that it looks empty, and that his boyfriend is here. "How long can you stay?"

"I'll head back Sunday morning. My dad has no idea I'm here." Kurt scrunches his nose up slightly at Blaine's reproachful expression. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, he and Rachel are the ones who insisted I take the Navigator with me specifically so I can get back here when necessary. And this, in my opinion, was very necessary."

Blaine cannot argue with that. He doesn't want to imagine what it would have been like to have tried to get through this over the phone or Skype, not when just touching Kurt seems to ground him; when the scent of Kurt's cologne and the flickering colors in his eyes as he smiles causes the vise around Blaine's heart to ease. A conversation hundreds of miles apart would have left Blaine with questions, with far too many fears. Having Kurt there with him said everything to Blaine that words never could have.

"I'm glad you're here, Kurt," Blaine admits, drawing in a still shaky breath. "I just… I'm glad we're okay."

Smiling at his words, Kurt leans his forehead against Blaine's, bringing their hands up between them, and pressing them over Blaine's heart. "I told you before I'd never say goodbye, Blaine, and I meant it."

Deep down, Blaine still wants to ask why Kurt didn't offer him a single indication over the last few days that things would be okay. He doesn't understand how Kurt could have willingly ignored how much that silence was hurting him. He knows that Kurt was hurting too, and he knows that when that happens, Kurt tends to shut down, and close people off. That's what scares Blaine most, because while he may understand Kurt's reasons for reacting to hurt the way he does, he knows the distance between them can only be made worse by shutting one another out.

"Kurt," Blaine says quietly, pausing as Kurt leans back, eyes intent on Blaine as he listens. "Promise me you won't shut me out again? Promise me that… I mean, if this is going to work, we have to talk to each other. No matter how much it hurts."

Kurt's silent for a long moment. His chest rises and falls as he draws in a deep breath and finally nods. "I promise."

Blaine knows it won't be easy. He trusts that Kurt will try because that's all they really can do right now is trust and believe in one another enough to make this work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** _This chapter took a while to get finished because a) it's almost 27K, and b) for some reason I suffered severe writer's block for more than a month. Could barely get my name written! Luckily, this entire fic is outlined, and I'm hoping my writer's block is gone for a while and I can get the next chapter up far, far sooner. Though, it'll likely be just as long. __Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Blaine knows something's wrong the moment he hits the ground. There's been a cold snap through the last week of September, and the soil is a little frozen, ridiculously hard, and Blaine feels all of the wind knocked out of him from the truck that is currently pounding him relentlessly into the cold earth beneath him. Okay, so maybe number thirty-six isn't exactly a truck, but Blaine figures getting hit by one would feel the same as this. The boy has to be on steroids; there's no other way to explain his unfathomable proportions.

As if the initial slam to the ground isn't enough, number thirty-six seems determined that Blaine doesn't get up again—and really, Blaine gets it, the visiting team is down by twenty-one points, and the Titans have been running the ball the whole game—he lifts himself up slightly and throws his weight back down against Blaine once again. He says something too, but Blaine can't make out the words because of the sudden pain shooting through his left shoulder, white hot and numbing his entire arm, and _oh_, he's felt that before, lying in a parking lot after the Sadie Hawkins dance. Admittedly the least severe of his injuries that night, but that doesn't mean it hurt any less.

Knowing his shoulder is most likely dislocated, Blaine just lays there and waits. When he opens his eyes, he can't even focus clearly, and his stomach is roiling with nausea in response to the pain. It feels like minutes when surely its only seconds before Aaron finally appears in his field of vision, hovering over him, eyes narrowed through the mask of his helmet.

"Dude, you okay?"

"No," Blaine tries to murmur but it comes out as more of a whine. He winces slightly when Aaron shouts over him, "Hey, Coach! Anderson's injured!"

Blaine takes deep, slow breaths in through his nose as he lays there, immobile, waiting for Coach Beiste and the local volunteer medical team. Aaron is still hovering beside him, watching him with a frown.

Blaine asks, "Did I get in, at least?" He vaguely remembers cheering as he hit the grass beneath him, but he has somehow refrained from turning his head to see where he is from the white line. For all he knows, the cheering could have come from the opposing team.

"Of course you made it," Aaron responds, as if he's stupid for asking. "I think that guarantees you game ball right there."

"I'll give it to you if you could make my shoulder stop hurting," Blaine gasps as he shifts slightly, just in time for Beiste and the medics to arrive.

"What's going on, kid?" Beiste asks in a motherly and concerned voice that's so opposite of what she usually uses with the team that it takes Blaine a moment to catch what it was she asked.

"My shoulder," Blaine gets out just as they carefully roll him over. He inhales sharply at the movement, the ball rolling away from beneath him caught out of the corner of his eye. "Feels like the last time it was dislocated." He huffs out a loud breath, trying not to throw up.

Taking his right hand in hers, Beiste slides her arm beneath his back and helps him into a sitting position while one of the medics cradles his left arm so as not to jostle it too much. Blaine's vision swims slightly, only somewhat better when he feels someone snap open the chin strap and slip his helmet off.

"Two options for ya, son," the medic holding his arm says. "We can get you to the locker room, get this gear off of you, slip your shoulder back into place, and let your parents get you to the ER for an exam. Or, we can throw you in a sling and send you directly to the ER."

Blaine doesn't want to even begin to imagine the pain of having his shoulder reduced into place without any kind of pain killer on hand. The mere thought makes him even queasier. He's pretty good at gritting his teeth and dealing with pain—after all, he's suffered far worse—but he doesn't relish the idea of breaking down into tears in front of his football coach. Kurt would probably tell him his stupid pride needed to be bitch-slapped.

Kurt would be right for telling him such things.

"I'd prefer the ER," he says, and the medics nod, and Blaine is on his feet before he realizes what is happening, between Beiste supporting him on one side, and a medic on the other.

Blaine allows them to lead him off the field, staring up in wonder at the people in the stands who are on their feet cheering for him. He glances over to the benches where his team is likewise applauding, shouting out to him, the cheerleaders all jumping up and down and whistling. Rose and Brittany are near Artie, all three of them giving him six thumbs up. Blaine's gaze shifts back to the stands where he finds Finn and Burt—Finn's on his phone, looking back at Blaine, nodding slightly. Burt just looks worried. Blaine flashes him a smile, even if it might be somewhat wobbly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father making his way down the steps, frowning.

The pain and nausea are forgotten as Blaine realizes how disappointed he knows his father will be.

Blaine's short-lived football career is over.

* * *

><p>The visit to the ER isn't as bad as Blaine knows it could have been. Carole is working her shift that night, and at first he supposes she uses those maternal superpowers she seems to have to find him, but she ends up explaining that Burt called to let her know Blaine was on his way there. He welcomes her company because his dad hasn't said much to him since the medics helped him into his dad's car; there was some comment about number thirty-six being way too big not to be on steroids, and Blaine had appreciated the sentiment behind the comment. Other than that though, his father had stayed at the desk to fill out the paperwork once they'd arrived, and Blaine found himself sitting alone on the bed in the ER until Carole had arrived.<p>

She holds his hand as the attending physician injects Lidocaine into his shoulder to anesthetize some of the pain, and then begins carefully rotating his shoulder outwards. Blaine tries not to tense, but it still hurts, and worse than that Blaine can imagine how much it would hurt without the medication, and he's squeezing Carole's hand tighter than he probably should as the doctor continues moving his arm. He tries to focus on the gentle slide of her thumb over the back of his hand instead of counting down the minutes that the relocation could end up taking.

He really wishes Kurt were there.

"Are you coming over to watch the games this Sunday?" Carole asks, obviously doing her best to distract him. "I was thinking of making nachos."

"Burt would cry," Blaine replies, his voice a little higher than he would have liked as the pain grows more intense. "I think I'd feel too much guilt eating those in front of hi—" He cuts himself off, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain.

Carole's hand tightens over his. "I'll get him baked chips and soy cheese. He won't know the difference."

Blaine almost, but not quite, laughs. "That sounds d-disgusting—Ow!"

"Relax, Blaine," the doctor tells him, still rotating his arm and Blaine really wishes he'd just stop. "We're almost there…"

"Do you and Kurt have big plans for Fall break?" Carole reaches up, plucking at his hair. "You've got some grass stuck, and a little bit of mud." She smiles as she rubs at a spot over his eyebrow.

_Lots of sex_, he thinks, and then feels his cheeks warm, the pain in his shoulder forgotten as he realizes how bad it could have been to have said that out loud. "No. Nothing specific. It'll be enough just to have him here."

"I understand. The house just isn't the same without him around," Carole says with a sigh, reaching up to rub at Blaine's good shoulder as she glances at the physician. "He tends to be the only one I can ever get a decent conversation out of… especially when the TV is on."

Blaine smiles for just a moment at that, and then his eyes widen as he feels it—a quick spasm before he feels his shoulder slide back into place. His vision actually swims in front of him, and he grips Carole's hand again as the nausea passes, and the pain subsides.

"All better?"

"Yeah." Blaine breathes out, returning Carole's smile as the doctor continues his examination and tells her they need to get some x-rays. His father arrives just in time to be told they're calling in a pain prescription to the pharmacy on file, and that Blaine will need to undergo physical therapy as well. Nothing they haven't been through before.

It's another two hours before Blaine is fitted in a sling, handed his prescription and sent on his way with a caution that it will be a good twelve-fourteen weeks before his shoulder is fully healed. No contact sports, etc, etc, and father and son are silent as they slide into the car and head home. Blaine busies himself by pulling his phone out of his messenger bag and turning it on. Moments later it lights up with message after message, and he smiles as he glances through them.

**From: Tina (1/5)**  
><strong>Holy crap! Are you ok?<strong>

**From: Tina (2/5)**  
><strong>I mean, obviously not but tell me you're ok when you get this… ok?<strong>

**From: Finn**  
><strong>I called Kurt… JSYK<strong>

**From: Tina (3/5)**  
><strong>That guy was HUGE. You looked so tiny!<strong>

**From: Tina (4/5)**  
><strong>I mean not in a bad way. Kinda like David and Goliath.<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (1/10)**  
><strong>CALL ME!<strong>

**From: Tina (5/5)**  
><strong>Just message me when you can!<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (2/10)**  
><strong>Why aren't you answering your phone?<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (3/10)**  
><strong>Oh god! You're at the hospital, aren't you?<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (4/10)**  
><strong>Please tell me you're okay…<strong>

**From: Artie (1/2)**  
><strong>I've got your game ball<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (5/10)**  
><strong>I'm sorry but I'm freaking out a little…<strong>

**From: Artie (2/2)**  
><strong>BTW, we won. Figured you knew but… hope you're ok, dude!<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (6/10)**  
><strong>Finn said some guy smashed you.<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (7/10)**  
><strong>I swear to god I am going to kill my stepbrother<strong>

**From: Rose**  
><strong>Got vid. Totally looks like the dudes trying 2 hump u into the ground LOL Hope ur ok, babe! Luv ya!<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (8/10)**  
><strong>I'm sorry if you have a lot of voicemails… but I'm going to keep calling until you answer!<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (9/10)**  
><strong>I wish I were there right now, dammit<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (10/10)**  
><strong>I love you so much. Just be okay, okay?<strong>

When Blaine checks his voicemail, it says he's missed fifteen calls. He bites back a smile, fingers gripping his phone tightly as he considers calling Kurt back. He knows he can't though, not with his father sitting right there, so he leaves his phone on silent and slips it back into his bag. They're almost home, and he can call Kurt once he's in his room.

They make a quick stop by the pharmacy where his father goes in to get the prescription for a muscle relaxant and pain killers. Blaine fingers the sling around his arm, thinking briefly about the pep rally performance they were planning for Homecoming. It was a week away, and the physician in the ER had said he wanted to keep Blaine in the sling for ten days. He certainly isn't going to perform in a sling, and finds himself hoping that removing it for just a short while that day won't be horrible. He figures he can just work with Brittany to minimalize the dance routine from too much use of his arms. Mr. Schuester will probably argue with him, but Blaine's fairly certain he can convince his teacher to see reason.

When they get home, Chesa meets them in the hall, and while she directs her questions about his injury to his father, it's Blaine she's fussing over, helping him remove his scarf, coat and gloves before sending him upstairs to rest while she brings him something to take his medication. He reaches the top of the stairs where he pauses for a moment, listening as his parents whisper furiously to one another in the hall.

"...never should have let him play!"

"So we just stop telling him to do the things he wants to do?"

"He only did it to impress you, and you damn well know it!"

Not wishing to hear anymore, Blaine enters his bedroom, shutting his door behind him as he sets his messenger bag on the floor. He slips his phone out of his pocket as he climbs up on to his bed, scrolling through his contacts to Kurt's name and hitting call. He doesn't even get out a greeting before his boyfriend's voice is coming over the other end of the line.

"_It's about time you called! Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Ever since Finn called me from the game I've wanted to talk to you! Why didn't you answer? Are you all right? God, Blaine, I should be there right now! One of these days, I'm going to get injured instead of you, and you'll know what I feel like right now._"

Blaine laughs softly, carefully leaning back against his pillows stacked against the headboard. "Kurt, calm down. I'm fine. I couldn't call because my phone has been off since before the game. And it's just a dislocated shoulder. It's not like number thirty-six broke my neck or anything."

"_This is me_ **_not_** _laughing at your attempt to be funny or dismissive or whatever the hell that last comment was about_."

"Sorry." Blaine swallows back further laughter at Kurt's overdone concern. "I'm fine, Kurt. Really. Carole was working her shift when I got there, so I received extra special treatment. I even got a lollipop for not crying."

"_God, you're such an idiot_," Kurt tells him, tone filled with affection. "_I do wish I were there, though. You're not supposed to get hurt when I'm not there to look after you_."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time a truck tries to pulverize me into sawdust," Blaine says with a smile, shifting on the bed in an attempt to get comfortable. He glances toward his bedroom door as it opens and his mom enters with a glass of milk and the prescriptions from the pharmacy. "Not that there would be much for you to do other than pamper me into oblivion."

Blaine watches as she sets the glass on his nightstand as she works to open the bottle, finally holding the medication out to him. He takes it, tossing it into his mouth and following it up with a few swallows of milk before flashing his mom a smile.

Chesa reaches out and brushes her fingers through his hair. "Is that Kurt? Hi, Kurt."

"My mom says hi."

"_Hi, Mrs. Anderson_!"

"Kurt says hi back," he tells her, looking back up as she waggles a finger in front of his face.

"Don't stay up too late talking," she warns. "You need your rest after tonight."

"Yes, ma'am." Blaine waits until she's exited the room, closing the door behind her. "What were we talking about… Oh, yeah. You pampering me."

"_You like being pampere_d."

"Only if it involves sponge baths. Yeah." Blaine smiles as he sinks back further into the pillows behind him, sighing at the thought of wet sponges and Kurt's hands. "You could definitely pamper me with those."

Kurt snorts rather rudely. "_I think that would lead to activities far too strenuous for your injury, quite honestly_."

"I could just… lie there… while you do your thing."

"_While I do my_—" Kurt sighs loudly. "_Remember when you were romantic?_"

"No."

"_Yeah, me neither_."

Blaine barks with surprised laughter, falling backward slightly and immediately regretting the movement as pain shoots through him. "Ow! Damn."

"_Does it hurt_?" Kurt asks quickly, clearly concerned.

Blaine's already hating himself as he begins to respond, "Only," and Kurt joins him, "_when I laugh_."

They both erupt into giggles, and Blaine whines and winces his way through his mirth, smiling so big at the cherished sound of his Kurt's musical laugh that his face actually hurts. Only Kurt would jump in to help him finish a sentence on something so clichéd.

Sighing, Blaine attempts to shuffle further down on his bed and into his pillows, but doesn't get very far. Honestly, the drugs they gave him for the relocation make him feel as if he's wrapped up in cotton. Giving up, he simply tugs a blanket over his legs. The skin on his neck is already feeling irritated from the rubbing of the sling around it, and Blaine hates feeling confined like this—it reminds him of the weeks and months of casts and slings and bed rest after the attack. He'd take it off if he didn't have to worry about being fully healed in time for Sectionals. Football might be over for the season, but New Directions still needed him.

"I miss you," he says out of nowhere, and immediately knows it's the wrong thing to say. They're not supposed to talk about that—they discussed it at length when Kurt had appeared in his driveway last month after that week of silence. This separation is difficult for both of them, and constantly reminding one another of that didn't make it any easier. Blaine feels guilty for saying it, and follows up with, "I'm sorry. It just came out."

"_No, it's… I miss you, too_," Kurt replies softly. "_And I mean it when I say I wish I could be there right now. I feel bad because I'm the one who kind of pushed you into joining the team in the first place_."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Please. You knew I wanted to do it. Besides, it's been good, you know? It's—it's given me and my dad something to talk about. Well, at least until tonight."

"_He didn't say anything, did he_?"

Blaine takes a breath and finds himself changing the subject. "Too bad your Fall break isn't a week earlier. You could come see our performance for the Homecoming Pep Rally. Artie, Aaron and I have been working on it. It's going to be fantastic, I think."

"_Blaine Anderson, I'm only letting you change the subject because I'm not there to kiss your pain away_," Kurt says with a sigh. "_And I'm sure it will be amazing. Your performances always are_."

"Stop. You're making me blush." It's that or the muscle relaxer, Blaine isn't certain which. He closes his eyes for a moment. "Tell me about your day. I mean, before Finn called."

Blaine loves these moments of their nightly conversations, be it by Skype or phone, when Kurt fills him in on the more mundane aspects of his day, and Blaine can just close his eyes and imagine he's there with him. Kurt is wonderful about never leaving the small details out-he describes what his route to school is like, the people he sees, each and every classmate and instructor description down to the hideous clothing choices they choose to make on a daily basis. He tells him about the ridiculous things they're forced to do in acting class, and Kurt will never get over the day he was forced to spend thirty minutes pretending he was a tree. More than once he's complained that all he wants to do is be on stage and sing heart-wrenching Broadway tunes, and trees don't sing, trees on Broadway certainly don't sing, so why on earth is he being forced to pretend to be one?

As Kurt begins describing to him the experimental vegan dish Rachel chose to prepare for them that night, and how she'd caught one of the potholders on fire ("_You know, the ones I bought in July with the latticed pattern in the dusky brown hues that I knew would be perfect for the new kitchen-those ones!_"), Blaine covers his mouth when he feels a yawn coming on.

"_You're falling asleep on me, aren't you_?"

"Mmmm, only a little," Blaine admits, blinking his eyes rapidly a few times to keep them open. It doesn't work, and this time he yawns loudly instead. "Sorry. It's the meds."

"_Oh, yes. I remember very well how you are on medication_," Kurt laughs. "_Ridiculously adorable_." He pauses and Blaine lets his eyes shut for just a few seconds as he listens to Kurt breathe into the phone. "_Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better, even though I'm not there to fluff your pillows and pet your hair?_"

Blaine thinks. "Sing to me?"

There's a long silence, and Blaine figures Kurt is debating what song would be perfect for the occasion of your boyfriend getting pulverized by a mack truck. Blaine doesn't think it matters what Kurt chooses; he could sing the alphabet, and it would still be beautiful because no one's voice is quite like Kurt's. Only Kurt can reduce him to tears when he performs.

Except the song Kurt chooses to sing is what Blaine can only label as highly inappropriate. "_Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you_—"

"Hey!"

Kurt pauses. "_Yes_?" His tone indicates that he's not entirely pleased with being interrupted.

"Don't you think that's a little inappropriate?"

"_It's Celine. There's no such thing as an inappropriate Celine Dion song_."

"There is when she's singing about her dead first love." Blaine makes a face, turning his head slightly to stare up at the ceiling.

"_I think it fits_," Kurt tells him. "_Near, far, wherever you are_—"

Blaine can't help it; he laughs, feet tucking beneath the covers only half-successfully. "You'd totally let go, wouldn't you?"

"_Well, of course. I wouldn't want some frozen dead guy clinging to me for hours. Seriously, find your own damn piece of wreckage_."

Blaine turns his face into the pillow beneath him, he's laughing so hard, and tears are stinging the corners of his eyes, and he listens happily to Kurt's resounding laughter on the other end of the line. They can do this because he's honestly lost count of the amount of times they've clung to one another, sobbing through the end of i_Titanic_/i as Leo's gorgeous face disappeared into the cold, dark water. One day when the Hummel household had been empty, they'd removed the door from Kurt's bedroom and laid on it, just to test their theories that the wreckage Rose laid unfrozen on was bigger than a door, and they could easily share a door. They had both fit just fine, with room to spare, especially when they snuggled close for body heat. Unfortunately, they'd fallen asleep like that, and then had the delightful opportunity to explain to Burt and Carole just why they'd felt the need to remove Kurt's bedroom door.

Burt still occasionally asks him if he's there to remove more doors when he stops by to visit.

"_You know I would have given you the door_," Kurt says once their laughter has died down.

Blaine smiles, eyes closed as he breathes, "And you know I wouldn't have taken it."

"_And then we both would have died_."

"Because we're smart like that."

Kurt giggles. "_I love you_."

"I love you, too, but I'm still waiting for my song."

"_Okay. Close your eyes. Are you comfortable? Let's see…_"

Kurt hums softly for a couple of seconds before he starts to sing and Blaine smiles, remembering a moment when his world had become brighter and warmer, when everything had suddenly made sense. He drifts off to sleep, the sound of his boyfriend singing about a blackbird keeping him company in his dreams.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Schue seems to be in a good mood," Tina whispers beside Blaine before reaching over to tug on the corner of his blue polka dot bowtie, straightening it slightly. Blue for Monday because, well… it's Monday, and the colors don't clash with the sling around his shoulder.<p>

Blaine nods, watching their director hums softly to himself as he writes across the whiteboard. There's the date of Sectionals, the date for Regionals, Nationals—which is taking place back in New York City this year, and Blaine can't wait because Kurt, Rachel and Mike have all promised to attend—and then two foreboding numbers at the bottom: eight, the number of members currently in New Directions, and twelve, the number they need in order to qualify for competition.

Mr. Schuester spins around from the board and smiles at them. "As you can see, we currently remain four members away from the total number needed for competition. While we know we have the support of our wonderful band," he waves toward the band members, all of whom appear to force smiles in return, "if we want to make it back to Nationals this year, we're going to need a dozen powerhouse voices on that stage at Regionals to bring down the house."

"I still say a performance during the Homecoming Pep Rally is our best option for drawing in some new voices this year, Mr. Schuester," Blaine offers.

"And we need to start preparing for that, Blaine," Mr. Schuester agrees, pointing his dry erase marker toward Blaine for emphasis. "But, for now, I am pleased to announce that this number," he points toward the eight and crosses it out, "has now become this number!" He quickly scrawls a number nine. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our newest member to New Directions, Ms. Harmony Mason."

Harmony sweeps into a room with a smile with a smile wider and brighter than a model for a toothpaste commercial. Her entrance is impressively dramatic, arms out swept as if she's ready to burst into "The Hills are Alive", and honestly, Blaine wouldn't be entirely surprised if she did. Beside him, Tina sucks in a sharp breath, and her hand lands on his thigh, nails gripping hard.

"That isn't—"

"Yes, yes it is."

She groans. "Well, there goes any chance I had for solos this year."

Blaine pats her hand, sympathizing, knowing Mr. Schuester far too well to offer up any platitudes that might not come true. On the one hand, they should all be happy—having Harmony's talent added to the mix will certainly give them an edge over the competition. On the other hand, none of them are clueless enough not to miss the assessing look in Harmony's eyes as her gaze sweeps over them, clearly judging and quickly dismissing each out of hand as lacking in the kind of talent she possesses. Her eyes linger on Blaine for just a moment, and he stares back at her, torn between wanting to be polite and welcome her to the club, and wanting to make damn certain Tina doesn't lose her chance to shine this year.

"Hello everyone!" Harmony greets them, tone confident and words somewhat rushed, as if she has more to say than she could possibly fit into a lifetime. "I am so happy to be a part of your delightful show choir! As you all should remember, we competed in Sectionals last year, and while you did beat us, I am certain none of you could have possibly discounted my obvious talent—"

"So what are you doing here?" Artie asks from the front row. "I thought you'd be preparing to win first place this year, seeing as how you're so talented and all."

Harmony's smile falters for only a moment before it brightens once more as she focuses her attention on Artie. "While I had every intention of leading the Unitards on to victory this year, our director was, sadly, in a devastating accident two weeks ago, and won't be returning for the year. Instead of taking the chance of having a PE instructor put in charge of the club, I requested a transfer to a winning choir." Her gaze sweeps over them again as she continues to smile. She holds her arms out once more. "I look forward to our victory at Nationals!"

There's a smattering of applause from Mr. Schuester, Rory, Aaron, Brittany and Sugar. Harmony curtsey's before them as Tina leans close to Blaine's ear. "I think she may be worse than Rachel at her most obnoxious."

"I think you may be right," Blaine replies, smiling-because it would be rude not to-as Harmony pushes her way through the chairs to the row in front of him.

She reaches out a hand. "Hi, I'm Harmony. You're the one who sang "Come What May" with Kurt during Nationals. I watched it on YouTube. Brilliant performance. I imagine we'll sound amazing together."

"Blaine Anderson," he says, shaking her hand as Tina sighs beside him. "And thank you." He's not quite certain what he should say to her comment about them sounding "amazing" together, so he lets it go.

"I hear both Kurt and Rachel made it into NYADA," she continues, sitting down and twisting in the chair to face him. "Two students from the same school in the same year making it into NYADA is practically unheard of." Harmony pauses, glancing around at the members of New Directions once more before smiling back up at him. "I'm sure you'll be on your way this year, hmmm? And me next year, of course."

"Of course," Blaine murmurs with a smile as Tina elbows him in the side. "Oh, uh, Harmony this is Tina. Tina, Harmony."

"Pleasure," Harmony says, smiling as she shakes Tina's hand.

"Okay, Blaine," Mr. Schuester calls out. "You want to walk us through the pep rally number?"

"Absolutely."

Grinning as Tina, Sugar and Rose give him a little round of applause, Blaine takes position at the front of the room and begins to explain the masterful idea he and Artie had come up with the other day while running lines for i_Guys and Dolls_/i. He knows that performances in front of the student body at McKinley haven't always worked out—either they were less than interested, retaliated in apparent annoyance or some other factor reared its ugly head to ruin the show, i.e. fire alarms. Luckily-and this is a consensus they'd all come to during the first few weeks of school-attitudes seem slightly different this year. The glee club members have actually received a few congratulations from classmates. The Nationals trophy is proudly displayed in the glass case near the front entrance, and there hasn't been a single slushy incident. While that doesn't mean potential members are knocking down their door to join up, it at least means they have a little more effectiveness when it comes to recruitment attempts.

Everyone seems excited about the song choice, except for Harmony, but Rose ends up telling her with far less polite words than Blaine would have used that she should just sit back and let the pros handle it. Once they begin working on choreography with Brittany leading them through a routine that thankfully requires minimal shoulder moves from Blaine, he tries to include Harmony in as much of it as possible, but she ends up making a comment that perhaps she should just let the "pros perform this number". Blaine can't help but feel that their newest glee club member is going to be less than a team player.

* * *

><p><strong>From: Artie (1)**  
><strong>I got trapped in the hall by Harmony. She gave me a 10 min speech as to why she should be allowed to audition for G&amp;D.<strong>

**_To: Artie_**  
><strong><em>What did you tell her?<em>**

**From: Artie (1/2)**  
><strong>It wouldn't be fair and she could try out next year.<strong>

**From: Artie (2/2)**  
><strong>Thank Joss Whedon I won't be here…<strong>

* * *

><p>Like with any high school, Homecoming at McKinley is an important event, not only to the student but to the surrounding community as well. There's the pep rally Friday morning that New Directions is preparing to perform during, followed by the parade that afternoon, and the game Friday evening, which includes the coronation of the Homecoming King and Queen. The dance will be held on Saturday evening, and Tina keeps dropping less than subtle hints that they should attend. Blaine knows he'll eventually give in and say yes because he'd be the worst kind of friend if he refused. After all, it's an opportunity for fashion, and Blaine's fairly positive that if he doesn't say yes soon, Tina will drop a hint on Tumblr that Kurt will see, and then Blaine will never hear the end of it.<p>

The classes have already begun choosing their themes, and designing and building their floats. The overall theme involved some long explanation from Figgins about partnering with the library, and Blaine had been excited when he'd first heard of it-excited right up until the point when the classes made their individual choices. When announced, he'd honestly been embarrassed to be a senior because, in someone's infinite wisdom (and he just discovered this morning that someone had been Sugar), _Twiligh_t had been chosen. Blaine had almost cried when he found out the sophomores when with the _Hunger Games_-Rose said it had been her suggestion, and her love of the books had garnered her extra brownies points from Blaine. The juniors grabbed _Harry Potter_, and the freshmen went with _Eragon_.

Blaine is not entirely certain he will ever find it in his heart to forgive Sugar. He'd texted Kurt, of course, because he knew his boyfriend would appreciate the irony of the situation. Kurt had quickly responded that it was almost enough to make him wish he was still at McKinley, if only to see Blaine's face. Of course, he'd followed that up with a comment as to what a horrible choice it actually was, since they were basing the floats off of the books and not the movies. Blaine had simply responded that even if they had based them off the movies, Taylor Lautner did not attend McKinley High.

The last week involved nominations for the Homecoming court. Blaine's interest in filling out the nomination form last week only extended so far in that he thought Aaron and Brittany would make an excellent King and Queen.

"I'm still upset that I won't be playing in the game," Blaine laments as he flicks a paper football through the goal posts Aaron has created with his fingers. Punching a fist of celebration in the air as it neatly sails between them, Blaine sighs and leans his chin on his hand.

"Don't sweat it, dude," Aaron replies, grabbing the makeshift football from where it landed on his seat. "You've done more than your share for the team this season. Coach says we wouldn't have the standing that we do if not for your mad skills on the ground. Score!" He quietly exclaims as the football pings Blaine on the tip of his nose. "Sorry."

Blaine laughs and shakes his head a little, glancing toward the front of the classroom before bending to grab the paper from the floor. They have a substitute in Physics that day, and while Blaine had initially attempted to keep up with the lesson plan, he'd finally given up right around the time Mr. Allen had realized only three of the twenty-five students in class were paying attention. Now Mr. Allen is sitting up front, discussing Marvel with three of the students. Blaine can remember when he used to miss the rigidity of Dalton last year; now he finds himself appreciating the ease his senior year appears to be affording him.

"Still, I'd like to be there to give the Indians a lesson in how to play a fair game." Blaine reaches over his shoulder to scratch at his neck where the material from the sling is irritating his skin. "I still can't believe those calls from the refs. Could they have been any more blatant in their bias?"

Aaron snorts.

"What?"

"'Blatant in their bias'," the quarterback repeats in what Blaine figures is supposed to be a rather poor imitation of him. "I wonder what century you're from, man."

Blaine aims the football, flicking it a bit harder than necessary into the middle of Aaron's forehead. "You were saying?"

"An awesome aim doesn't change the fact that you're the weirdest teenager I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Aaron shrugs. "Didn't mean it as insult, so why the hell not?"

Blaine catches the football before it flies past his shoulder when Aaron overshoots his mark. "You know, we should probably be running lines, or something. You had some issues with the diner conversation during rehearsal yesterday."

"Well, who the hell talks like that?" Aaron mutters, reaching in to grab the i_Guys and Dolls_/i script from his backpack and waving it in Blaine's face. "I mean, besides you."

"Oh, ha."

"_Attention students_," Figgins voice crackles over the loud speaker, and some of the conversations die down in the classroom, but not all. Blaine tries to pay attention but Aaron flicks the football into his cheek. "_We have the nominees for this year's Homecoming_." A few more conversations dissipate, and even Aaron suddenly appears interested. Blaine feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and slips it out to see a message from Tina:

**From: Tina**  
><strong>Our last high school Homecoming! The LAST one, B<strong>.

Blaine shakes his head, smiling a little as Figgins begins running through the list of nominees for the freshman class, none of whom Blaine recognizes the names. He's hoping to get to know a few after the pep rally, if only one or two would show interest in glee club. When Figgins begins naming the sophomore nominees, both Blaine and Aaron are pleased to hear Rose's name included.

"That girl's gonna be wearing tiaras the rest of her time at McKinley," Aaron whispers, and Blaine nods in agreement. Even though she has the tendency not to censor the things she says to people, Blaine has yet to meet anyone who genuinely doesn't like the girl. Her red hair and hyper active personality cause her to stand out as well. She's pretty too, which Blaine figures assists in the ladder of high school hierarchy.

When Figgins finally begins announcing the senior nominations, the classroom around him grows quiet. Everyone in the Physics class is a senior, and these are the only names that really matter. Blaine smiles when he hear Brittany's name listed among a couple of other cheerleaders, a girl named Alice who's on the debate team, and Lucie Walters, who's not only their star swimmer but is also known for speaking four languages fluently. She also makes a mean cupcake-Blaine had accepted one from her last spring, and had complimented her so much that a school week hasn't gone by since where she hasn't shown up with one or two, in a variety of flavors, to offer him. His friends' tease him that she has a crush but Blaine's fairly certain that is not the case. She just appreciates that he enjoys her baking skills, and without Kurt around, there's no one else to make him cupcakes anyway.

Blaine is not the least bit surprised when Aaron is announced as a nominee for Homecoming King. He turns to offer his classmate a polite golf clap, and receives the salute of Aaron's middle finger in return. Grinning, Blaine reaches out for the paper football, ready to flick it back in Aaron's direction when he hears:

"_-and Blaine Anderson. And that concludes this year's nominees for the Homecoming Court. Congratulations, students. And good luck_."

Blaine blinks, opening his mouth to ask Aaron what it was he'd just heard, but he receives confirmation by the way Aaron is grinning at him, and poking him in the arm. Wide-eyed, Blaine turns to look around the classroom, and most of the students are staring-some are smiling, giving him a thumbs up, a couple of the girls are saying "Congratulations!", but there are others, too. The ones openly frowning, turning to whisper to friends as they roll their eyes. Blaine feels something he hasn't felt in a very long time-the overwhelming need to just curl in on himself and disappear.

Swinging his head back around to Aaron, Blaine whispers, "I don't understand. How did this even happen?"

Aaron's watching him, as if just beginning to realize Blaine doesn't seem to want this. "The team, glee... we all thought if anyone deserves it, it's you. You've got a whole lot of school spirit for someone who transferred in, and I don't know, between football and glee, you've done a lot for the school." Aaron frowns. "I'm sorry. We just thought-"

"No, it's okay." Blaine waves his apologies away. He's focusing on the bad, when it's obvious there are just as many people who are fine with the nomination. And maybe, everything will be all right.

Still, he'd feel better if Kurt were there.

"Thanks, by the way," he remembers to add, just before the bell rings. He smiles at Aaron. "It's really... thoughtful."

* * *

><p><strong><em>To: Kurt 333<em>**  
><strong><em>... I've been nominated for Homecoming King..<em>.**

**From: Kurt 333 (1/2)**  
><strong>...<strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (2/2)**  
><strong>LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO<strong>

**_To: Kurt 333_**  
><strong><em>Oh shut up<em>.**

**From: Kurt 3333**  
><strong>But no, I'm proud of you. Really. 3<strong>

**_To: Kurt 333_**  
><strong><em>I'm scared.<em>**

**From: Kurt 333 (1/2)**  
><strong>Don't be, bb. Things are better, you know that. You'll be fine. <strong>

**From: Kurt 333 (2/2)**  
><strong>Call me after school, k? I love you!<strong>

**_To: Kurt 333_**  
><strong><em>Ok. Love you, too<em>.**

* * *

><p>"Are you sure about this?"<p>

Blaine glances up at Mr. Schuester, who is hesitating at assisting him in removing the sling. His teacher is regarding him with one of those overly concerned expressions, like he's ready to pull Blaine from the performance completely, and that's not happening because it's been far too long since Blaine's performed in front of an audience. Sure, there was the summer show at Six Flags, but that ended more than a month ago, and this song is perfect, and a healing shoulder certainly is not going to be the thing that keeps Blaine from going out there.

"I'm fine, Mr. Schue," Blaine says, removing the sling without his help as Schuester stands there, still looking as if he's going to say something. "The sling comes off Monday, anyway. I've been in it for a week already. And I'm just taking it off for this because I'd look silly wearing it." He looks up at his teacher, eyes beseeching. "I'll put it back on right after. I promise. Besides, the choreography Brittany came up with doesn't require me to move it much at all. It's mostly footwork. Lots of spins. I've been doing more in rehearsals for the show this week."

Mr. Schuester sighs, reaching up to assist Blaine at the last minute, and pulling the sling away, still watching him like he might break or something. "All right. I'm trusting you on this, Blaine. But just remember, we need you for Sectionals. I know you won't be one hundred percent by then, but I'd rather you not participate today so we can count on you next month."

"Rock salt in my eye couldn't prevent me from participating in Sectionals, Mr. Schue."

Blaine glances up with a smile to see Mr. Schuester giving him another one of those looks that clearly says his quip was not in the least bit funny, and now his teacher is all worried again. Kurt has warned Blaine time and again that his sense of humor sometimes needed a little work. This is apparently one of those times.

Luckily, Tina appears at his side, interrupting whatever Mr. Schuester might have said as she bounces slightly in the Titan's jersey Blaine knew belonged to Mike. They're all dressed with McKinley pride for the performance; Blaine, Aaron and Artie in their Letterman jackets, Brittany and Rose in their Cheerios uniforms, the rest in McKinley colors. They'd debated for a long time on exactly what they should wear. They'd even had Sugar present some design ideas for costumes. In the end, though, Aaron suggested that maybe since it's Homecoming, they should just stick to demonstrating some Titan's pride; it would assist with emphasizing the fact that even though most of the athletes at the school had very little interest in the glee club, the opposite could be said for the members of New Directions.

"Ready?" Tina asks as Artie rolls over, and they hear Figgins making the announcement of their performance through the gym speaker system.

"Let's do this!" Aaron slaps Blaine on the shoulder a little harder than necessary as he jogs past him and Mr. Schuester lets out a sigh of resignation as Blaine follows the others to the stage.

There's a smattering of applause as the lights come up and the music kicks in. Blaine can't hide his grin as he begins moving to the beat with the others because there are only two things in the world that make him truly happy-performing and Kurt. Artie takes center stage to begin singing:

"_So we back in the club, with our bodies rockin' from side to side, si-side to side. Thank God the week is done, I feel like a zombie gone back to life, ba-back to life_."

Blaine glances over at Tina, dancing between Brittany and Rose, and she flashes him a big smile before he returns his attention to their audience, attempting to gauge their reactions. He can see movement from some; after all, it is Usher, and the only reason to not be dancing is because you have something against it.

Just as Artie is about to finish the first verse, Blaine twirls to center stage and takes up the chorus. "_Cause baby tonight, the DJ got us falling in love again! Yeah, baby tonight, the DJ got us falling in love again._" Artie and the others back up him as he continues, focusing on hip and foot movement across the stage, "_So dance, dance, like it's the last, last night of your life, life. Go on, get you right. Cause baby tonight, the DJ got us falling in love again_!"

Blaine moves back in line with the others, and they continue their way through the song similarly-Artie taking the verses, Blaine through the chorus. When he glances out to the bleachers, Blaine can see more students getting to their feet, dancing, singing along. Tina nudges him at one part in the song, giving him a wink. So far, so good. No fire alarms. The next time Blaine steps out for the chorus, there are a few cat calls and whistles from girls, causing Blaine to blush and grin all at the same time, and maybe he plays a little on that because performing is performing, no matter who it is you're performing for.

When they reach the rap section, Aaron steps up to take over while the rest dance in sync behind him, and there are actual cheers now, from the football team, from the cheerleaders. Aaron's really well-liked for having just moved to Lima from California. It works that he's comfortable in the spotlight, that he's talented, that he loves to sing as much as he loves playing football. The only bad part is that like Blaine, Aaron's a senior, and New Directions will be scrambling to replace him next year as well.

"_Bada bing bada boom, Mr. Worldwide as I step in the room. I'm a hustler baby, but that you knew, and tonight it's just me and you_!"

As Blaine twirls up for the last chorus, Artie and Aaron join him on it, their voices harmonizing well together, and Blaine finds himself slightly disappointed that they chose not to save this song for Sectionals. It would have been a spectacular performance in full costumes.

When they finish and take their bows, the gymnasium is thunderous with applause. Blaine glances down the line at his fellow glee club members to see them all beaming with pride as they take their bows, even Harmony, who simply appears pleased to be performing. She'd still been against the song, but at the eleventh hour had changed her mind about participating, in a last-minute decision that would have made Rachel plaid with envy at the drama of it.

"Fantastic performance, you guys!" Mr. Schuester calls out as they head behind the curtain. He immediately waves Blaine over to return the sling to his arm. "They loved it! And, we made it through without any unfortunate emergencies. I call that a win, even if we don't get any new members."

"The point was new members, though," Blaine says, glancing back toward the curtain as he hears Coach Bieste's voice echoing across the gym, talking about tonight's game, and crushing their opponents and Blaine sighs in disappointment. He hadn't realized how much he enjoyed playing until now, when he can no longer do so.

"I'm not too worried." Mr. Schuester gives Blaine's good shoulder a light squeeze. "This glee club's come a long way, and I have no doubt we'll be bringing home another Nationals trophy this year. By the way, congratulations on the Homecoming nomination. I bet Kurt wishes he were here to see it!"

Blaine rolls his eyes. "He hasn't stopped giving me crap about it since I told him. He finds it ridiculously hilarious that I'm going to be stuck on a float today, surrounded by a _Twilight_theme-which I hate, by the way."

Schuester laughs. "Well, I think it's great, Blaine. I think McKinley has come a long way."

Unwilling to argue with a faculty member when it comes to the merits of just 'how far' the school has come in relation to its treatment of out gay kids-population _one_-Blaine just forces a smile and slips away to join Tina and Sugar as they make their way out to the bleachers to sit down and watch the rest of the pep rally.

* * *

><p><strong>From: Rachel (12)**  
><strong>Kurt just showed me your pep rally performance. Looking good, Blaine! Miss singing with you! ~ RB<strong>

**From: Rachel (2/2)**  
><strong>OMG! IS THAT THE GERBER BABY! IS THE GERBER BABY IN ND?<strong>

**From: Kurt 333**  
><strong>WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME HARMONY TRANSFERRED?<strong>

**_To: Kurt 333 & Rachel_**  
><strong><em>Oh, by the way, guys. Harmony transferred to McKinley and joined ND... Miss you!<em>**

* * *

><p>Coach Beiste gave Blaine the option of not attending the games, but Blaine is still a member of the Titans, whether or not he can play, so he chooses rather to support his team as opposed to sitting at home, moping over the fact that he can't play anymore. Besides, it's a perfect excuse to get away from the house without constantly calling Tina to do something with him.<p>

With his sling still in place, she tells him not to bother putting on his uniform either, so Blaine is still in the grey suit jacket and slacks he'd worn earlier in the parade. What a horror that had been. There'd been plenty of jeers and laughter at the senior float, and Sugar couldn't understand why the sophomore float had won when she thought she'd made such a sexy vampire. Brittany had enjoyed the sparkles, and made the decision to wear plenty of sparkles on her skin for the dance tomorrow night.

Blaine had never been so happy for a parade to end in his life, and he has spent his life loving parades.

"Hey there, bud!"

Blaine glances up at the familiar voice, flashing a smile as Burt Hummel, Finn following behind him, makes his way down the bleacher steps to where Blaine is leaning against the railing. He steps up to accept the hug Burt always gives him, noting how careful the man is not to put too much pressure on his left shoulder.

"How are you, Mr. Hummel?"

Burt gives him the same eye roll he has for the last year, when he had finally given up on trying to convince Blaine to address him simply as Burt. "Doin' good." He digs into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing some money over his shoulder to Finn. "Why don't you grab us some hot dogs? Maybe an order of nachos, too."

"All right!" Finn grabs the money, peering over Burt's shoulder a moment. "Hey, Blaine! S'up?"

"Hi, Finn," Blaine greets just before Finn spins around and hurries back up the steps. Raising an eyebrow at Burt, Blaine says, "Hot dogs and nachos, Mr. Hummel?"

"And you won't be saying a thing to my son about it," Burt replies, poking Blaine once in his good shoulder. "I still own a shot gun, you know."

Blaine just grins and shakes his head a little. "I promised Kurt I'd keep an eye on your eating habits, Mr. Hummel, and I'm pretty certain the hot dogs and nachos served around here are not in the least bit healthy."

"You eat 'em."

"Yes, and your son gives me crap about it every single time." Blaine glances toward the field, watching the Titans warm up. He turns his phone over in his pocket, considering whether or not he should text Kurt to alert him to his dad's dinner choices for the evening, and then decides to give Burt this one night to have a little fun.

"Your old man here?" Burt asks, looking up through the stands.

Blaine follows his gaze. "No. He, uh, he had work things he had to take care of tonight." Blaine doesn't meet Burt's gaze when it shifts back to him. He's grown used to the sympathy he usually finds reflected in Burt's eyes, but he really doesn't want to focus on that tonight.

"How's your shoulder?"

Blaine brings his gaze back to Burt before looking down at his sling. "It's definitely better. I get to take the sling off on Monday, and then it's just physical therapy appointments for forever."

Burt laughs and reaches out to give his right shoulder a squeeze. "It only feels like forever. It'll be over before you know it. You comin' over for the games on Sunday? We missed you last weekend. Carole made... soy nachos."

Blaine tries, unsuccessfully, to stifle his giggles. "Absolutely. Kurt sent me a recipe for a veggie dip that actually sounds like it may have some flavor to it, so I might bring that with me."

It may seem odd to others, but even with Kurt off in New York, Burt, Finn and Carole have insisted on Blaine stopping by to visit. He's spent most of his Sundays watching football with them, and Burt has mentioned a few times that once the Titan's season is over, Blaine should start attending family dinners with them again on Fridays. Blaine can't decide if this is something Kurt has put his family up to, or if they really do want to spend time with him on their own. He hasn't bothered asking.

"Well, I don't know about the veggie dip," Burt says, brow furrowing slightly at the very thought of healthy football food. "But Carole's gonna make lasagna for us. She has to work."

"Veggie lasagna?" Blaine can't help but ask with a smile.

Burt just waggles a finger at him.

The first half of the game doesn't go very well for the Titans. Blaine sits on the bench, wincing each time one of his teammates is tackled or Aaron gets sacked. Manuel wheels Artie in for a touchdown at one point, but that's the only score they put up on the board. The Indians score two touchdowns and a field goal by halftime. Blaine shifts to glance over his shoulder at the stands where the Titan's fans are sitting, mostly showing disinterest in the game by this point; phones are out, texts and tweets being sent. Blaine catches Burt's gaze and they shrug at one another; beside Burt, Finn has his ear buds in, watching something on his phone.

The announcement of the Homecoming court is just as exciting as Blaine expects it to be, which is to say, not at all. He stands on the field between the other nominees for king; Aaron sweating and slightly out of breath in his uniform on Blaine's left side, Jon, the hockey team's star player and also hand's down one of the biggest jerks at McKinley in Blaine's opinion, and Adam on the end, the senior class clown, who even now is wearing a pair of Stewie Griffin boxers over his jeans and making lewd gestures at the crowd. Blaine can't help but wonder how he got lumped into this group.

Aaron wins, of course, and Blaine can't help but feel momentary relief over that fact as Figgins moves on to announce the Homecoming Queen. His words are lost though, as Jon mutters, "As if McKinley would have had a fag for a king anyway," and Blaine chooses to ignore him, but Aaron reaches behind Blaine to shove Jon hard into Adam. They both fall to the ground, and then Jon is on his feet, shouting at Aaron, charging at him, and Blaine tries to break up the fight with one arm before Beiste and half the football team get involved.

Blaine wishes the turn of events surprised him as he looks toward the stands to see Burt on his feet, looking out at him with concern. He just shakes his head, turning his gaze back to the fray where Figgins is escorting Jon and Adam off the field, and Beiste is yelling in Aaron's face even as he's yelling back and waving his arms toward Blaine. As all eyes shift toward him, Blaine sighs, and Beiste stops yelling and tells the team to get ready for second half.

"That was monumentally stupid of you," Blaine murmurs to Aaron as he walks beside him toward the bench.

"You're my boy. I'm not going to let some dickhead get away with saying shit like that."

Blaine draws in a breath and steps in front of Aaron, stopping him. "A, I don't need you looking after me. If I'd felt that comment needed a response, I would have given it. And B, all you did was create a scene and alert the entire team to the problem, when if you'd just let it go, it would have been said and done with and ignored."

"Well, maybe that's something that shouldn't be ignored, Anderson," Aaron replies, shoving past him. He turns back around, and adds, "And maybe that's the problem with you glee kids. You rant and rave behind closed doors about being treated fairly, but never have the balls to stand up for yourselves. You're not going to sing and dance your way to equality, you know. The world doesn't fucking work like that."

Blaine opens his mouth as Aaron stalks away from him, but realizes he has nothing to say in response.

* * *

><p>"Well, that was a waste of two hours," Tina mumbles, twirling her coffee cup between her hands. "I'm pretty certain that was the worst dance in McKinley history."<p>

Blaine nudges her with his elbow. "You look fantastic, though."

His friend lifts her head, beams at him, a few tendrils loose from the bun fixed on top of her head escaping around her face.

"What about me?"

Blaine turns to Brittany, seated beside him, looking gorgeous in hot pink and black. "I had the two most beautiful dates there," he tells her, slipping his arm over her shoulders, and then behind Tina's, hugging them both close. "And, I got to escort the Homecoming Queen, so that's awesome in and of itself."

Brittany gives him a smile. "I wish you could have been my Homecoming King, Blaine."

"Hey! Since when do I not count?" Aaron asks from the other side of the table where he's squished between Rory and Rose on one side, and Sugar on the other. Why the four of them insisted on trying to fit into the booth is beyond Blaine's understanding. "I think I make a pretty good Homecoming King."

"I completely agree." Blaine nods as he squeezes Brittany's shoulders affectionately. "Besides, the crown would have messed up my hair."

"God knows we can't have that happening," Rose says with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm surprised Harmony didn't attend." Artie moves his chair up to the end of the table, setting his coffee down before holding out the cinnamon for Blaine, and a plate with two cookies on it for Sugar. She squeals and leans over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Blaine murmurs his thanks, sprinkling some cinnamon over his coffee, and stirring it in as Rory says, "I tried asking her. Thought it would be the nice thing to do, since she's the new girl and all. I didn't entirely understand her response, but I'm pretty certain it wasn't complementary."

"Have you heard her set list idea for Sectionals?" Artie asks, reaching out to snap off a piece of Sugar's peanut butter cookie. "She was pitching it to Schue yesterday. All Broadway tunes. All with her in lead. Schue seemed to try to let her down easy, but you know that gleam he gets in his eyes when a talented performer starts crying crocodile tears."

"I'm not denying that she has a gorgeous voice," Tina says. "But I'd just kind of found myself hoping that this year might be different? I had so much fun at Sectionals last year. I'd never really considered myself as the lead on anything, but I loved the chance to do it."

"I think as long Harmony has a say, we'd all best get used to being backup singers," Rose adds, before glancing across the table. "Well, except for Blaine. Harmony seems sweet on you."

"Guys, don't give up hope yet, okay?" Blaine holds his hands out in an attempt to calm the others. "I really think Schue understands the value of the team, and yes, Harmony is a stunning singer but I think as long as we all continue to remind him that everyone here is just as good as she is, then we'll all have our chance. I think we just need to figure out how to deal with her, too."

"What do you mean?" Aaron asks, stealing Sugar's second cookie and ignoring her protest.

"I mean, maybe doing nothing but Broadway tunes for Sectionals isn't such a bad idea?" Blaine suggests, gauging the reactions of the others as he looks around the table. "There are plenty of group numbers we could incorporate. We could include Harmony in a duet, so she at least feels she has the spotlight for some of the competition, and divide up the rest as equally as possible."

"As much as I'm completely against a set list of show tunes," Rose says with a sigh. "I have to admit, it's a good idea."

Blaine smiles as the others around the table all nod in agreement, his mind already filling with ideas for songs they could possibly do. Of course, he'd ask Rachel and Kurt for their opinions as well, knowing they'd have invaluable input, and just as if Kurt knows he's thinking about him, _Come What May_begins playing from Blaine's phone. He pulls his arm from Brittany's shoulder, sliding his hand into his suit jacket pocket, smiling instantly when he sees Kurt's picture on the screen before holding it up to his ear.

"Hey, babe."

"_So how was the dance? Did you enjoy looking like a stud with a girl on each arm?_"

Blaine giggles, about to respond when Tina leans over him to say into the phone, "Hey, Kurt. Brittany and I have decided we're not letting you have Blaine back-he's far too good of a dancer, and he opens doors for us. Like, everywhere. So, you know, your loss. By the way, I miss your face!"

Kurt's laughing as Tina pulls away, and Blaine rolls his eyes at her. "_They do realize they don't have the necessary equipment it takes to make you happy, right?_"

"Well, Tina does," Blaine says quietly, ignoring his friend as she begins poking him in the ribs, asking him "I do, what?". He taps Brittany on the shoulder, waving her out of the booth so he can slide out and attempt to get some privacy. "I'll be back, guys," he whispers, ignoring their whistles and innuendos as he pushes his way through the Lima Bean door outside to the parking lot.

"Alone at last," he tells Kurt, making his way over to his car to lean against the hood. "I really missed you tonight."

"_I'm going to tell myself it's because you missed my company and not just because you needed someone to snark with over tacky Macy's juniors section Homecoming dresses_."

Blaine laughs, and kicks at the asphalt with his wingtips. "Well, maybe some of both."

"_Band or DJ_?"

"DJ."

Kurt's silent for a few seconds on the other end of the line before prompting, "_And... ? Don't even try to convince me you didn't take over the mic at some point_."

"God, you know me so well," Blaine says with another laugh, face flushing. "Okay, so I might have sang one or two songs. But, the guys all joined me on _Party Rock Anthem_, and Tina practically begged me to sing _Ready to Go_. I only gave in because she and Rose started comparing me and Brendon Urie, and then they started talking about him and me-well, I didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation. It's bad enough Rose has a fascination with my ass."

"_This Rose and I are going to have to have a talk, I think._" Kurt says, clucking his tongue for emphasis.

"She's sweet. Just... she has no filter. Like, at all." Blaine lifts his head as he hears the door to the coffee shop open, a couple walking out, arms linked as they're laughing together, making their way through the parking lot.

"_Otherwise, things were okay?_"

Blaine knows what he's asking, and smiles at the worry in Kurt's voice that he is unsuccessfully attempting to hide. "Yeah. I felt a little smothered, actually. Between Tina and Brittany clinging to me most of the couple of hours we were there-other than Brittany disappearing to dance with random students. And the rest of the glee club, hovering." Blaine chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Kurt, you didn't, uh, say anything-"

"_I promised that I never would, Blaine_," Kurt points out before Blaine can finish. "_I know you don't like people knowing about that night, and I'd never share anything about it without your knowledge. You should know that_."

"I'm sorry," Blaine says quickly. "It's just... they were so clingy and protective."

"_Probably just because I wasn't there. You're not the best at masking your emotions, Blaine. You probably had the whole cow-eye thing going._"

"I don't have cow eyes!"

Kurt's giggles and Blaine realizes he's being teased, and ducks his head, laughing softly. "_I'm sorry you didn't win, though. You would have made a fabulous king, if I do say so myself._"

"It's for the best," Blaine says, thinking about the comment from Jon at the game.

"_Well, you'll always be a king to me, honey_."

Blaine smiles.

"_By marriage only, of course. I'm the only one with royal blood in this relationship_."

"Oh, of course." Blaine's smile grows as he listens to Kurt laugh. "I wish you were here, Kurt."

"_In one week I will be, and then you won't have to wish for it_."

"At least until you leave again."

"_Shhhh. We made a promise, remember?_" Kurt scolds quietly.

Blaine knows Kurt is right, and he quickly pushes the knowledge that he only gets Kurt for a few days aside. He should be happy that he gets to see Kurt at all; that Kurt still wants to do this and still be _KurtandBlaine_even though he's in New York and going to college, and Blaine is still stuck in Lima, and he can't help but wonder if Kurt even tells his new friends that his boyfriend is in high school. He's never asked, though. He's afraid to ask.

Instead, Blaine smiles, and thinks of the future, and how it won't be too long before he's in New York, too. "The best is yet to come," he says, immediately crinkling his nose in self-disgust because, wow, that was quite possibly the cheesiest thing he's ever said.

In fact, the sound of Kurt rolling his eyes is so loud; Blaine imagines he can hear it through the phone just before Kurt erupts into laughter. The laughter is better, and Blaine can't wait to hear it again in person.

* * *

><p>"Sit for a minute. Relax. Talk. Or maybe you're in a hurry."<p>

"My daddy always said there's only one time a man should be in a hurry. When the cops are comin' up the stairs." Blaine smiles as he slides into the booth across from Aaron.

"How about a coffee? Maybe a piece of cheesecake?" Aaron offers.

Blaine shakes his head in the negative. "Thanks. I'm pleased to hear things go well with you, Nathan. From communiqués received in Las Vegas, we understood that Brannigan was corkin' up the town."

"Who's worried about Branigan-"

"Cut!" Artie shouts from the front of the stage.

Aaron pulls a face as he looks over at him. "Now what?"

"It's 'who worries about Branigan' not 'who's worried'."

"Okay, nobody in the world talks like this," Aaron says, pauses and waves a hand toward Blaine. "Except maybe grandpa over here."

Blaine sticks his tongue out at Aaron.

"Try it again," Artie says. "From 'who's worries about Branigan?'."

"Who worries about Branigan? How was Vegas?"

"Paradise for two weeks." Blaine leans back in the booth, setting his fedora on the table. He loves the suits he gets to wear in this show. "I gambled in green pastures, the dice were my cousins and the dolls were agreeable with nice teeth and no last names."

He can tell Aaron is fighting not to laugh. That line always gets him. "You are sure I cannot offer you cheesecake or strudel?"

"No, thanks. I just ate."

"How long you gonna be in town?"

"Only tonight. Tomorrow I fly to Havana."

"Sky, don't think I am a pest, but do yourself a favour - eat this last little bite of cheesecake. You will thank me." Aaron pushes the plate of cheesecake closer to Blaine.

The worst part of the show so far is every day, they use real cheesecake. And Blaine never gets to take a bite of it. "Honestly, I couldn't swallow a mouthful. How is Adelaide?"

"Fine."

"I suppose one of these days you'll get married."

"We all gotta go sometime."

"But, Nathan, we can fight it. The companionship of a doll is pleasant even for a period running into months. But for a close relationship that can last through our life, no doll can take the place of aces back to back."

"Still, you will admit that Mindy's cheesecake is the greatest alive." Aaron immediately turns to Artie, breaking character. "No, seriously this guy is like a drug pusher. A pusher of cheesecake."

"Also a fairly addictive substance," Blaine says, reaching out to swipe his finger in the cheesecake and suck it off the tip.

Artie drums his fingers on the armrest of his wheelchair. "The commentary is a lot of fun, Aaron. Really. And it's also going to keep us here longer. Do you mind continuing?"

"No, but seriously, this Nathan is a loon," Aaron says quietly to Blaine before slipping back into character. "Still, you will admit that Mindy's cheesecake is the greatest alive."  
>"Gladly. Furthermore, I am quite partial to Mindy's cheesecake." <em>Or any cheesecake really<em>, Blaine thinks.

"And yet, although you might disagree, many people prefer Mindy's strudel. Do you disagree?"

"It is my understanding that the Constitution allows everybody the free choice between cheesecake and strudel." Blaine's mouth twitches on that line. He loves Sky Masterson.

"I would be interested to hear. Offhand, would you say that Mindy sells more cheesecake or more strudel?" Aaron leans forward.

"Going strictly by my personal preference, I'd say more cheesecake than strudel." Actually, Kurt makes an amazing strudel. Blaine hasn't had it in forever, but maybe he could convince Kurt to make it this weekend while he's visiting...

"For how much?"

"What?"

"For how much?" Aaron leans forward even further, excitedly.

"Why, Nathan! I never knew you to lay money on the line. You always take your bite off the top."

"A thousand bucks says that yesterday Mindy sold more strudel than cheesecake."

Blaine nods slightly and gets to his feet, moving over to the other side of the booth to slide in beside Aaron. "Nathan, let me tell you a story."

"Have we got a bet?"

"On the day I left home to make my way in the world, my daddy took me to one side. "_Son_," my daddy says to me, "_I am sorry I am not able to bankroll you to a large start, but not having the necessary lettuce to get you rolling, instead, I'm going to stake you to some very valuable advice. One of these days, a guy is going to show you a brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken. Then this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the jack of spades jump out of this brand-new deck of cards and squirt cider in your ear. But, son, you do not accept this bet because, as sure as you stand there, you're going to wind up with an ear full of cider_." Now, Nathan, I do not suggest that you have been clocking Mindy's cheesecake."

Aaron spreads his hands wide. "Would I do such a thing?"

"However, if you are looking for action," Blaine places his hand quickly over the rather wonderful bow tie-it's one of his own, actually-that Aaron is wearing, "I will bet you the same that you cannot name the color tie you have on. Have we got a bet?"

Aaron tries to angle his head down to see the tie, but it's fairly obvious he can't. He sinks slightly in his seat, face taking on an expression akin to motion sickness. "No bet."

With a smile, Blaine pulls his hand away, leaning back as Aaron tugs the knot loose quickly, glancing at his tie before sighing loudly. "Polka dots. In the whole world, nobody but Nathan Detroit could blow a thousand bucks on polka dots."

Rory enters from stage left, wandering over to the table with a smile as Blaine gets to his feet. "Hi, Sky. Nice to see you. How goes it?"

"Healthy. And with you, Nicely?"

"Nicely-nicely, thanks. Nathan?" Rory leans in worriedly. "What's the matter, Nathan? You look sick."

Blaine reaches out for his fedora, saying, "The cheesecake backed up on him."

"Maybe that's why they told me they sell more strudel," Rory offers helpfully.

Aaron drops his face into his hands with a groan.

Ignoring his obvious plight, Rory continues, "Adelaide gave me a message for you. Be sure and pick her up after the show. And don't be late!"

"Yes, dear," Aaron says automatically behind his hands. "I mean, okay."

"Yes, dear?" Blaine looks down at him, blinking. "This is husband talk if I ever heard it. You are trapped because Adelaide is a doll that is most difficult to unload."

Aaron drops his hands and looks up. "I don't want to unload her. I love her. A guy without a doll... If a guy does not have a doll, who would holler at him-"

"Cut. It's 'who would holler _on_him'."

"That doesn't even make sense, grammatically speaking," Aaron says.

Blaine grins. "I like how they talk."

"You would."

"Aaron," Artie says. "Please continue."

"If a guy does not have a doll, who would holler _on_him. A doll is a necessity."

"I am not putting the knock on dolls. But they are something to have only when they come in handy... like cough drops." Artie giggles at the line, giving Blaine the indication that his delivery was timed correctly. "And the proof that I am right is that dolls are available as far as the eye can see."

"Not dolls like Adelaide."

"Nathan, nothing personal and no offense, but, weight for age, all dolls are the same."

"All dolls are the same, huh?"

"As far as the eye can see." Blaine waves the fedora in front of him widely.

"It seems to me the one place a doll would come in handy would be in Havana." Aaron gets up from the booth, sliding his hands into his pockets. "So how come you ain't got one? How come you are going alone, without a doll?"

"A matter of choice. I choose to travel alone, but if I wish to take a doll, the supply is more than Woolworths has got beads." Blaine has argued that they should update that line to make sense to people today. Artie wants to leave it as is because it sets the right tone for the era.

"Not high-class dolls."

"There's only one class: indivisible and interchangeable. A doll is a doll. All dolls, any doll. You name her."

"Any doll? Will you bet on that?" Aaron says slyly. "Will you bet a thousand bucks that if I name a doll, you can take the same doll to Havana with you tomorrow?"

Blaine grins and pokes Aaron in the chest. "You've got yourself a bet."

Slipping his hand behind Blaine's back, Aaron guides him toward stage left where Tina enters, dressed in her Salvation Army uniform, a few of the band members following, playing a horrible march. Aaron waves a hand forward.

"I name _her_!"

"_Her_?" Blaine asks, affecting the same look of motion sickness Aaron had earlier.

"Sergeant Sarah Brown," Aaron announces with a broad smile.

Turning away, Blaine wanders back toward stage right, away from Aaron and Rory, both of whom look entirely too pleased with themselves. Blaine leans against the booth and looks upward. "Daddy," he says beseechingly. "I got cider in my ear!"

"And... _scene_!" Artie calls out, clapping. "Very good. Let's move on. I'd like to get out of here before I have to head back to class in the morning..."

They continue on with only a few major interruptions. Brittany changes the choreography for "Havana" halfway through the dance number, and part of the scenery falls over during Blaine and Tina's performance of "I've Never Been in Love Before". Act Two flies by with far fewer interruptions, and before Blaine knows it, he's belting out "Lucky Be a Lady" while the majority of the football team dances around him in brightly colored zoot suits and fedoras. Blaine loves the number; he loves the song, the choreography that Brittany put together, the costuming and the set. Slipping into the role of the charming, high stakes gambler has proven far easier than Blaine had expected. He hates to admit that Artie was right but... well, he was right.

At the end of the number, as the company pauses in place for applause, Blaine hears more than Artie's clapping from the front of the stage. He glances out into the house to see a very familiar and welcome individual applauding from the aisle.

"Kurt!"

It's not the most professional behavior in the world, but Artie has stopped the rehearsal, so Blaine sees nothing wrong with jumping down from the stage to hurry up the steps to where Kurt is standing, waiting for him with a smile. He doesn't exactly throw himself into Kurt's arms-other than the fact that Kurt is standing there with his arms open waiting for him, and they do kind of stumble back a little bit when Blaine's body collides into his-but it's not so much throwing as jumping, really.

The moment he feels Kurt's arms wrap around his shoulders, embracing him tightly, Blaine releases a breath he hadn't realized he's been holding-holding for maybe the last month, actually-and he closes his eyes and presses his face into Kurt's neck, and just forgets about everything but the boy in his arms. He smiles as he feels Kurt's arms tighten over him a moment, and then the feel of Kurt's fingers curling into the hairs at the nape of his neck. It's as if they're each remembering that _yes, this is how it feels_because even though Blaine hasn't forgotten, it's still nice to know he'd been right.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine finally pulls his head back, stares into glasz eyes that he's lost himself in more times than he can count. "I thought I wouldn't see you until tonight."

"I asked my dad to drop me off on the way back from the airport." Kurt shrugs a little, his hands sliding down Blaine's arms to wrap around his wrists. "I'll see my family plenty while you're at school tomorrow. I wanted to see you in rehearsal, and say hi to everyone."

His words remind Blaine that they have an audience, and he glances over his shoulder to see everyone milling around the stage, talking quietly amongst themselves, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. Blaine's face flushes because he knows they're being rude, not just on a professional level but to their friends as well. He takes Kurt's hand in his and tugs him down the steps.

"Come on. I'm sure Artie will be fine with you saying hi to everyone before we wrap up," he says quietly.

The moment they reach the stage, Tina and Brittany tackle Kurt with hugs, telling him how much they've missed him and complimenting his outfit. Blaine hangs back, watching as old friends reacquaint themselves and Aaron and Rose step up to introduce themselves. He laughs and shakes his head when Kurt warns Rose to stop ogling his boyfriend's ass, but she's quick to respond.

"Well, while you're here, I'll just ogle yours instead."

Kurt lifts an eyebrow in appreciation as Blaine slips over and nudges him toward the front of the stage and the chair next to Artie. "We're almost done with rehearsal. Then we can head back to my place?"

"Perfect!" Kurt brushes a kiss to his cheek before walking away to join Artie.

Blaine doesn't have to tell Kurt his parents are not home; it was understood fairly quickly when they first became friends. Kurt had only remarked on it a few times before realizing Blaine was not entirely comfortable with discussing it, and the matter was dropped. There have only been a couple of times since they've begun dating that Blaine has ever had to say "My parents are home." Usually, this little fact has a way of bothering Blaine.

But not today.

* * *

><p>Blaine's heart beat is just resuming it's normal speed when he feels Kurt pull away from him, rolling to the side of the bed to dispose of the condom. His eyes flicker open, and he notices that at some point in time the lighting in the room has faded from dusk to darkness. Kurt apparently realizes this as well because he reaches over to switch on the lamp beside the bed before he returns to Blaine's side, snuggling up against him, hand sliding over Blaine's stomach, fingers mapping out his ribs.<p>

"How's your shoulder?" Kurt asks softly, lips pressing against the bicep of Blaine's right arm.

"It's fine." Blaine smiles and lifts the arm Kurt is kissing, wrapping it around Kurt's shoulders as he moves closer, and lays his cheek against Blaine's chest. Blaine thinks maybe he's missed this even more than the sex; just being close like this, holding one another. Smirking slightly, he adds, "You were almost too gentle."

"And yet, you still had a good time." Kurt pokes a finger into Blaine's abdomen.

"Your mouth was on my dick, Kurt. Of course I had a good time."

Squeaking with apparent outrage, Kurt shoves against Blaine's side-not hard because he's been treating Blaine like glass since he arrived in the auditorium that afternoon-but it's enough to tickle a little bit, and Blaine tries to wiggle out of his reach. Kurt pulls him right back though, arms wrapped tightly around his waist so Blaine can't get away, and Kurt hooks a leg over Blaine's before nestling his head back against his chest. Content with not moving anymore, Blaine sighs and closes his eyes, his hand drifting up to slide his fingers through Kurt's hair, clutching lightly.

They both lie there silently for the next few minutes, and Blaine feels himself beginning to drift, everything muted and a little hazy, imagination taking over reality as he thinks of life a few years from now. Laying in bed with Kurt, in a tiny apartment in New York, no worries about parents coming home early or keeping bedroom doors shut. They'd discuss having a dinner party with friends later that week, disagreeing on the menu and piecing together an entire playlist of songs to entertain their guests with. To make up for arguing over the menu, Blaine would let Kurt coordinate their outfits for the evening, and maybe at the last moment they'd call the whole thing off, texting their friends that one of them was sick, and spending the rest of the evening feeding one another straight out of the pots on the stove while dancing around the kitchen singing "I'll Cover You" at the top of their lungs.

"...this the most."

Blaine's eyes blink open at the sound of Kurt's voice. He must have drifted off over the last few moments. "Hmmm?" He asks, shifting slightly, arm tightening around Kurt.

"You fell asleep on me." Kurt's tone is affectionate.

"N'didn't," Blaine tries to argue but gives up. "M'be just a few moments." He's more awake now. "What did you say?"

"I said I miss this the most." Kurt lifts his head, turning it to look up at Blaine and resting his chin on Blaine's chest. "Just being with you like this, hearing the sound of your heart beat, feeling your fingers in my hair. New York is... amazing. But it will be even more so once you're there with me."

Blaine smiles, caressing the back of Kurt's head for a moment before slipping his hand down to his neck where his skin is warm and still slightly damp from previous exertions. "You like it, though? It's everything you imagined it would be?"

Kurt shrugs and drops his gaze, his finger tracing light patterns over the outline of Blaine's ribs. "There are moments for Rachel and I when our insecurities get the best of us, and then it's tears and ice cream _Smash_marathons, and once I'm absolutely certain I'm not the most talentless hack in the entire world, I call you. Rachel, though, she doesn't really have anyone to turn to, other than me." Kurt's eyes flicker back up to Blaine. "I feel bad for her. Sometimes I see her just sitting on her bed in her room, clutching the teddy bear Finn won for her at the school carnival last spring."

"Does she ever talk about Finn?"

"She tries not to, but sometimes his name slips. And she tries to deflect it, you know, launching in to how it's important for her to focus on her career, and it's good that she doesn't have any distractions but his decision really hurt her."

"I'm not entirely certain Finn is all that pleased with his choice, either." Blaine trails his fingers upwards, brushing through the hair over Kurt's ear.

"Oh? Has he opened up to you about it? He clams up when I try to talk to him."

"That's because you live with Rachel," Blaine says with a smile. "He hasn't said much but occasionally he'll pose a question or get this look in his eyes when I talk about heading to New York next year and I can just see the wheels turning. Like maybe he's reconsidering."

Kurt appears surprised at this. His eyes widen for a moment, before his forehead creases into a frown. Blaine can't help but reach up with his fingertips to smooth the creases away. "Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have fought so hard against their marriage. Maybe they'd both be happier-"

"Hey." Blaine pressed a finger to Kurt's lips to silence him. "You know what that would have achieved? Finn being miserable and having no direction in New York while he watched the two of you following your dreams, the possibility of Rachel losing focus on hers, and you being stuck in a tiny apartment with them."

"You have a point." Kurt bends his head, pressing the tip of his nose into Blaine's stomach, his lips puckering to place repeated soft kisses against the skin beneath them. He smiles when Blaine giggles because it tickles just a bit. Sighing softly, warm breath spreading over Blaine's belly, Kurt turns his head to press his cheek against him, gazing up into his eyes. "I can't wait until you're there with me, you know."

Blaine catches Kurt's hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing light kisses over the tips of his fingers. "Same. Sometimes all I can think about is how we'll be like this every night, waking up beside each other every morning-"

"Walking down the street holding hands, finding a favorite place to eat or just spend time together... "

Kurt trails off and suddenly moves, crawling back up beside Blaine to lean down and press their lips together, sucking Blaine's lower lip between his and cupping his face in his hands, a little too tight, a little to desperate. Sensing there's something wrong, Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, tugging him close as they kiss, the momentary intensity from Kurt gentling to something simple, slow, lips simply clinging to one another before Kurt breaks it. Their foreheads rest together, and Blaine gazes up at Kurt; his eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, soft breaths fanning over Blaine's lips. He rubs his hands over Kurt's lower back for a silent moment.

"Want to tell me what that was about?" he finally asks.

Kurt's eyes slip open, and he doesn't respond at first, just gazes back down at Blaine. They're so close that their eyelashes occasionally catch against one another. Blaine thinks Kurt's eyes look like supernovas at this proximity.

"It's a school night for you, so I should probably go," he whispers, giving Blaine another brief kiss before pulling up and away.

The question is obviously being ignored but Blaine knows better than to push. If there's something bothering Kurt, he'll share it in his own time. Instead, Blaine lets out a slightly pathetic whine as he rolls over, attempting to catch Kurt before he can slide out of the bed. Unfortunately, he's not fast enough. "I don't want you to go," he pouts, leaning his chin on his forearm as he rests at the edge of the bed, watching Kurt as he searches for his clothes scattered around the room.

They'd been in a bit of a rush when they'd gotten back to his place.

"Dad wants me home for my first night back," Kurt tells him as he finds his underwear and pants, and slips them on before sitting on the bed beside Blaine. "And I figure it's best to keep him happy if you're staying over tomorrow night, right?"

"I guess," Blaine murmurs, still pouting because Kurt had covered his ass entirely too quickly. He manages a smile when he feels his boyfriend place a kiss on the top of his head.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you if you keep making that face it's going to freeze that way?" Kurt teases, reaching out to flick the tip of Blaine's nose.

"Yes, actually. Throughout most of my childhood, in fact."

"Why does this not surprise me?" Kurt tugs his shirt on over his head, following it up with his vest and jacket.

Blaine rolls on to his back and looks up at him. "So many layers. Such a shame." He grins when Kurt sticks his tongue out at him. "Tease. Do you want me to walk you out?" He asks, starting to get up.

"I know my way." Kurt leans over to give him a quick kiss. "Besides, I'd prefer this image of you to fall asleep to tonight," he says with a wink, squeaking slightly when Blaine wraps a quick hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down for another kiss. He laughs against Blaine's lips and kisses him back before finally pulling away. "Do your homework, honey, and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner. Love you!"

Blaine leans back against the headboard, grabbing the extra pillow and hugging it to his chest. "I love you more!"

Laughing, Kurt rolls his eyes and tosses a wave over his shoulder as he exits Blaine's room.

Still smiling, Blaine leans his chin on the pillow, staring at the doorway Kurt had just vacated. It's obvious there's something bothering his boyfriend, and while Blaine will not push to find out what that is, he does find himself hoping Kurt will choose to tell him sooner rather than later. The miles between them has made the chances to open up to one another far fewer than before. They should still be able to talk to one another, the same as always, but Blaine knows it is not as easy as that. It's more difficult to know what the other is thinking when they are no longer together as much as they were.

Blaine's not worried about them growing apart. But he is a little afraid of what it might mean for them to be growing up.

* * *

><p>"So should I even ask what you were up to last night?"<p>

Blaine glances up at Tina as she sets her tray down on the table and slides onto the bench beside him. He tries to hide his smirk, but fails spectacularly as he reaches over to snatch a cherry tomato from her salad. "Why, Tina Cohen-Chang, whatever are you referring to?" He asks, popping the tomato into his mouth and smirking as she smacks his arm.

"You've got that look about you," she says, opening her can of diet Dr. Pepper. "The one that says you've been well fucked."

Blaine chokes slightly as he swallows the stolen tomato, eyes wide and cheeks slightly warm as he stares at his friend. She just smiles as she lifts up the burger on her tray to take a bite.

"I need details!" Sugar practically shouts in Blaine's ear as she leans over from behind to hug him tight before taking the empty spot on the other side of him. "You and Kurt looked so adorable when you left the auditorium last night-you couldn't let go of each other!"

"Well and truly fucked," Tina reiterates in a whisper, stabbing at her small salad with a fork.

Blaine opens his mouth to respond but Sugar is hugging him again. "No wonder you can't stop smiling! What're the two of you doing this weekend? I mean, besides the obvious." She grins at him. "Want to go to the mall? There's a ton of sales going on, and I want to hit them all. My dad even filled up my credit card for me." Sugar peers around Blaine's shoulders. "Tina? Do you wanna come, too?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't want to miss out on shopping with Kurt."

"I haven't said yet that Kurt and I plan on going shopping," Blaine points out as he grabs a fry from his plate, dipping it into a glob of mayonnaise. "You do recall that Kurt lives in New York now, right? Why on earth would he want to shop in Ohio?"

"Ummm, because we're dragging his rather attractive boyfriend along with us, so he really has no choice?" Tina replies as Sugar giggles in agreement.

Blaine smirks as he grabs another fry. "I think Kurt might have something to say about that."

"Fine. He can tell me tomorrow at the mall." Tina leans past Blaine. "Is tomorrow good for you, Sugar?"

"Perfect!"

"What's perfect?" Artie asks, rolling up to the table as Rory grabs the seat across from Blaine.

"Sugar and I are kidnapping Kurt and Blaine for a shopping expedition tomorrow."

"Damn, I forgot about Kurt," Artie says, shaking his head.

Blaine raises an eyebrow. "How, exactly, does one forget about Kurt?"

"No, I mean, I'm putting together a Madden tournament tomorrow at my place. My mom's even springing for pizza. Everyone's coming over-Finn, Puck, Aaron, Rory," he nods his head to the side and Rory grins, mouth full of cheeseburger, "I meant to tell you about it this morning. Forgot about Kurt being home, though. Doubt he'd wanna stop by."

"Very doubtful." Blaine smiles and reaches over to steal another tomato, only to get smacked on the back of his hand by Tina's fork. "Ow! But I'll ask, all the same. Maybe we could stop by after the mall."

"Excellent."

"Hello, fellow glee clubbers!" Harmony appears behind Tina's shoulder, smiling brightly at all of them before focusing her gaze on Blaine. She immediately wedges her way into between him and Tina, ignoring Tina's protests as she pushes her out of the way and sets her tray down. "I thought we could talk about Regionals. We have less than three weeks to prepare, you know."

"That's just about three weeks too many," Artie says, squinting at his plate as he pulls a long blonde hair from the mac 'n' cheese with a queasy expression.

"Have you given any more thought to my suggestion of show tunes?" Harmony asks Blaine, ignoring Artie's remark. "You have to admit that you and I would sound positively gorgeous on "As Long As You're Mine", Blaine."

Blaine doesn't have to look up from his fries to know everyone at the table is staring at him, waiting for his response with baited breath. He smiles and glances over at Harmony, knowing that keeping her happiness balanced with the rest of the group isn't going to be an easy feat. On the whole, Blaine thinks Harmony's a good person-she's just a little full of her own self-importance to really be a team player at the moment. She's talented, though, and they could really use that. New Directions will continue to need strong singers, especially with more of them graduating this year.

"I like the show tunes idea, Harmony," Blaine begins, glancing around the table at the others. "As I believe we all do. And a song from _Wicked_ is an absolute _must_. Although," and his gaze shifts back to Harmony as he focuses his full attention on her, "I thought maybe you and Tina could share a duet-"

"What?" Tina peers around Harmony to glare at Blaine.

"Your voices would sound quite clever together on-wait for it." Blaine holds up his hand as Harmony arches a well-shaped eyebrow at him. ""What is This Feeling?""

"That's kind of brilliant, actually," Artie says, tone filled with quiet awe as he stares across the table.

"Harmony? Tina? What do you both think?"

The girls glance at one another, and Blaine knows quite well there's no love lost there. Tina has tried repeatedly for the last couple of weeks to be as nice as possible to Harmony, and received little concession in return. Blaine thinks its because Harmony sees her as competition for the spotlight, but Tina laughed that off. It bothers him that his friend doesn't really see what a beautiful voice she has.

"I suppose that's acceptable," Harmony finally says with a nod, reaching out to stab rather pointedly at the salad on her plate.

"Sure." Tina shrugs. "Why not?"

Blaine releases a short breath he didn't realized he'd been holding, glancing across the table at Rory who gives him a thumbs up.

"What other songs are we going to sing?" Sugar asks, entwining an arm around his as she leans against him and steals a fry.

"I haven't really thought much beyond that one."

""Seasons of Love" could be a great group number."

"Artie!" Blaine says in surprise. "I didn't realize you were a _Rent_fan."

"I like to keep a little mystery." He waves his fork in the air before picking at some tater tots.

Pushing what's left of his fries over to Sugar (she kisses his cheek in thanks), Blaine gets to his feet and grabs his tray. "I'll let you guys mull over other ideas for our third song, and we can present them to Mr. Schuester next week." He glances between Sugar and Tina. "What time are we meeting tomorrow?"

They look at each other and Tina shrugs. "I'll text you in the morning, Boo."

"Sounds good. I'm off to see the library about a book on the Fall of Rome. See you guys later!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>To: Kurt 333<em>**  
><strong><em>Tina and Sugar have demanded our presence at the mall tomorrow.<em>**

**From: Kurt 333**  
><strong>Is Sugar bringing her credit card?<strong>

**_To: Kurt 333_**  
><strong><em>Yes.<em>**

**From: Kurt 333**  
><strong>Sound like a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. ;)<strong>

* * *

><p>"So how's that shoulder of yours doin'?"<p>

"It's better," Blaine says, glancing toward the head of the table where Burt is frowning briefly at the salad in front of him before he returns his attention to Blaine. "I mean, I won't be doing any handstands soon but other than that, it's just a little sore sometimes."

"I remember when I dislocated my shoulder during a game in the eighth grade," Finn says as he scoops another pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Dude, that sucked. The worst part was, the doc wouldn't even let me play drums for like two months."

"And this is exactly why I am a big proponent of the fact that sports are dangerous and should be outlawed." Kurt takes a sip of his iced tea as he reaches over to rub at Blaine's shoulder gently.

"No, you just think they're boring," Burt points out.

"That, too."

Blaine smiles as he slices off a piece of the chicken breast on his plate, leaning ever so slightly into the comforting touch of Kurt's hand. "Dinner's really great, Mrs. H. I don't think I've ever had chicken this moist."

"Suck up," Finn mutters into his glass of Coke.

Carole reaches out to playfully smack her son's arm. "Thank you, Blaine. Kurt gave me the recipe," she says, giving Kurt a smile. "But I told him if I couldn't successfully pull it off on my own tonight, I might have to force him to move back home."

Kurt lifts his chin slightly and whispers to Blaine, "I may have snuck into the kitchen a few times to make certain that doesn't happen."

Blaine grins, returning his attention to his meal as Kurt starts talking about some of his favorite restaurants in New York so far. Not wanting to focus on all of the things Kurt is experiencing for the first time without him, Blaine instead thinks about how nice this is, to have Kurt there for the Friday night family dinner again. While he's gotten used to joining the Hummel-Hudson's most weeks, it just hasn't been the same without Kurt's snarky humor or the occasional touch of his hand against Blaine's thigh or wrist. No matter how much Burt and Carole and even Finn go out of their way to make him feel welcome, Blaine cannot help but feel as if he's intruding instead. Kurt's presence alleviates that feeling somewhat.

After dinner, Kurt and Blaine offer to clean up in the kitchen-Kurt washes and Blaine dries-and they don't say much other than the occasional comment about dinner or the conversation had during. From the living room they can hear the television playing, and Finn and Burt talking over the commentary, either agreeing or arguing with the sportscaster. Whenever Kurt hands Blaine a dish, their fingers brush over one another they share a brief smile, and sometimes Blaine leans in to bump their shoulders together. He's been a little worried, honestly, that their time apart might have made things different between them, a little less comfortable but that certainly isn't proving to be the case. They can still share plenty without ever saying a word.

They spend a little time with the family, though there are general disagreements about what to watch on TV. Blaine sits on the floor between Kurt's legs, eyes drifting closed as his boyfriend's fingers move gently over his shoulders. It's more of a caress than a massage, and it's working at putting him to sleep. Between rehearsals and homework and studying for SATs and ACTs and everything else, Blaine knows he can more than fall asleep easily beneath Kurt's touch.

That is until Carole brings out her amazing sweet potato pie.

"Sometimes I think if you had to choose between me and food, you'd have trouble making the decision," Kurt teases, toeing Blaine's hip with his boot.

Blaine shakes his head as he swallows the bite he just took and turns to look at Kurt over his shoulder. "Only if I haven't eaten in a while, babe. Otherwise, no contest."

Kurt laughs and pushes at his shoulders playfully.

In fact, Blaine has two slices of pie, and half of Finn's third slice that he can't finish, and Finn pouts for a few minutes because Blaine has proven more than once that he can eat as much as he can. Finn finally excuses himself to head up to his room and play video games the moment Burt begins snoring from the recliner. Resting his arms on Kurt's thigh, chin tucked over them, Blaine listens as Kurt and Carole discuss some color ideas for the kitchen. Carole wants to redecorate but cannot decide if she wants to go for something bright and sunny or a little more subdued. He jumps into the conversation the moment Carole brings up the idea of a chicken motif, and he and Kurt spend every second of the next five minutes offering reason after reason as to why that's a bad idea. They have all finally agreed on a soft yellow with cornflower blue accents before Kurt is getting to his feet, and tugging Blaine to his, and they're saying goodnight to Carole before heading up to Kurt's room.

"Chickens," Kurt mutters as they reach his room and he opens a drawer to pull out his pajamas. "I feel as if we barely escaped an apocalyptic disaster just now."

"I may have to come over and help her paint, just to make certain she doesn't change her mind at the last moment." Blaine opens his duffel bag and pulls out his own set of pajamas that match Kurt's in color if not pattern. The first time they'd been caught wearing them in front of Kurt's family, Finn had spent a good ten minutes doubled over in laughter. Carole said they were adorable, and Burt had wondered aloud if they were going to begin wearing matching sweaters at Christmas.

They take their turns using the bathroom down the hall to wash up and get ready for bed. Once in his pajamas, Blaine crawls on to Kurt's bed and switches on the small flat screen tucked into the bookshelves while Kurt sits at his vanity to moisturize. He holds out one of the jars toward Blaine in question, but Blaine shakes his head no and glances back at the television, finally settling on the Food Network. Feeling the mattress shift, he looks over to find Kurt scooting over to him, jar of moisturizer in hand. Blaine doesn't even have time to open his mouth in protest before Kurt slaps a glob of the cool cream on his cheek and begins spreading it over his face.

"I knew the moment I left for New York, you'd forget all about proper skin care."

Blaine closes his eyes as Kurt's fingers gently and deftly move around them, patting the moisturizer carefully into his skin. "It's not a conscious effort. Usually I'm in bed when I remember, and then I don't want to get up."

"You have beautiful skin, Blaine. It would be a waste to watch it age prematurely."

Not having a response to that, Blaine just sighs softly through his nose, tilting his head at all the right angles as Kurt's fingers move across his face. He leans his head back a little when Kurt taps his chin, and then the cream is lathered over his neck. The scent is light, and reminds him of Kurt, so Blaine doesn't mind it much. Plus, any excuse to have Kurt touching him is a win in Blaine's way of thinking.

When he's certain all of the moisturizer has been rubbed in, Kurt's fingers still linger; a thumb sliding along Blaine's jaw, fingertips caressing his cheekbones. Blaine opens his eyes and Kurt is right there, just gazing at him, a soft smile curving his mouth. He meets Blaine's gaze and his smile broadens.

"I miss the rough feel of your stubble against my fingers. Isn't that silly?"

Blaine shakes his head because it's not silly in the least, and he leans across the few inches separating them to brush his lips, loose and dry, against Kurt's chin, letting them drag and catch as he continues down Kurt's neck, ending with a kiss over his Adam's Apple.

"I've missed it, too."

He hovers there a moment, breathing in the scent of soap and moisturizer, laundry detergent from the collar of Kurt's pajamas, and finally leans back. Kurt captures his lips in a quick kiss before he can go too far and when Blaine tries to deepen it, he laughs and pushes Blaine away.

"I haven't finished my routine yet," he reminds him, climbing off the bed and returning to his vanity.

Sighing loudly, Blaine pouts into the mirror over Kurt's shoulder as his boyfriend smirks at him, before settling back against the headboard and flipping through channels once more. In the end, he returns to the Food Network to watch _Iron Chef America_by the time Kurt is climbing back onto the bed and leaning against the headboard beside Blaine. Knowing that they're about to settle down for the night, Blaine tosses the remote next to Kurt and turns, curling up against his boyfriend's side and laying his head against his chest as he wraps his arm across Kurt's stomach.

"I take it someone wants to cuddle?" Kurt's tone is one of amusement as he presses a kiss against the top of Blaine's head.

Blaine closes his eyes and smiles. "Got a problem with that?"

"No. But I would argue that _Iron Chef America_isn't exactly cuddle material."

"Alton Brown seems cuddly."

"Hmmm."

"There's nothing else on," Blaine protests weakly before snuggling closer until his position is just perfect, head firmly pressed against the center of Kurt's chest, leg lifted and tucked between both of Kurt's. He draws in a slow breath and relaxes as he listens while Kurt begins flipping through channels to locate that ever-elusive cuddle-perfect TV show.

When Kurt's chest begins shaking with barely suppressed mirth beneath Blaine's head, Blaine shifts his attention to the TV, trying to make out what it is Kurt's watching without opening his eyes. He listens carefully to the laugh track, certain he's heard it before. Kurt continues to shake, pressing his face into Blaine's hair, puffs of air warming his scalp with each giggle. The laugh track continues, and Blaine finally gives in, peering one eye open only to smirk and close it once more when he recognizes Lucy crushing grapes in her bare feet.

"_This_is cuddle material?" He murmurs.

"I love this episode. This, and the one where she and Ethel try to steal John Wayne's footprints."

Blaine's the one giggling now. "You and Rachel are _so_Lucy and Ethel." He squeaks as Kurt pinches his side.

"Stop." A pause. "Well, okay, as long as she's Ethel."

Blaine settles again, relaxing and tuning out the sound of the television to lose himself in the feeling of having Kurt so close once more. He focuses on the sound of the heart beating beneath his ear, a steady thrum only interrupted on occasion by the rumble of quiet laughter. There's a gurgle from Kurt's stomach every now and again, something that used to embarrass the hell out of Kurt when they'd first started dating. Back when everything was supposed to be spotless and shiny, more like the perfect 1940's romance, and less like real life. Blaine had never minded either, really, but he very much loved the realness they had between them now-stomach gurgles and sticky messes after sex and hurt feelings-and he wouldn't give that up for anything.

"Remember, Kurt, door stays open," Blaine hears Burt say, somewhat from a distance, the fog of sleep already clouding his mind.

"I know, Dad," comes Kurt's reply, short and obviously annoyed.

"Night, boys."

"Night, Dad." Blaine thinks he mumbles a goodnight as well, but that also could have just been in his mind. He does hear Kurt say something about needing to get under the covers if he's going to go to sleep, and then he doesn't remember anything.

* * *

><p>"...<em>pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel like you're nothing, you are perfect, to meeeeeeee<em>!" Blaine holds his last note a little higher and more ridiculously at the end than normal, and it sends Kurt into peals of laughter as Blaine pulls his car into a parking space not too far from the entrance to the mall.

Kurt slumps in the passenger seat for a moment, smiling over at Blaine, cheeks high with color and eyes shining as he reaches over for Blaine's hand. "Now, i_that_/i I miss. I can't just ever sing for pleasure or fun with Rachel. It always ends up turning into a contest to see who can hit the higher note or hold it for longer." He threads their fingers together and tugs slightly until they're both leaning across the console, lips brushing together. Kurt whispers, "I miss how we sound together. _Perfect_."

Blaine smiles against his mouth. "Dork."

Kurt laughs and they kiss again, and Blaine's fine if they just sit there like this, for the rest of their Saturday, and never pull their lips apart. Unfortunately, the sound of a text arriving on his phone spoils that, and Blaine pulls it from his pocket to shake his head at the message from Tina. He holds it up to show Kurt.

**From: Tina (1/1)**  
><strong>Stop making out in the car. We're here to SHOP<strong>.

"Oh, how much I want to point out to her the hours I spent waiting on the sidewalk while she and Mike made out in the car," Kurt says with a sigh as he gives Blaine one last quick kiss and unbuckles his seat belt to slide out of the car.

"That would be cruel, though, seeing as how Mike hasn't had as many opportunities to come home as you," Blaine points out, locking the doors as he moves up beside Kurt and they head toward the mall entrance. "Sounds like Alvin Ailey is running him ragged."

Kurt nods, moving to take Blaine's hand in his. "The last time we grabbed coffee together he said he'd never considered dancing a chore until recently."

"Ouch."

"Mmmhmm."

Tina and Sugar are waiting for them just inside the doors. After the requisite hugs between them, they set off on a mission to conquer "every sale in the vicinity" according to Sugar. Blaine's surprised when Kurt doesn't let go of his hand as they begin making their way through the mall. They've always been careful when out and about in Lima, knowing that catching the attention of the wrong person, even when friends are with them, can lead to trouble. So the fact that Kurt is holding on to Blaine's hand, not even bothering to hide it as he occasionally steps out of pace to look into a window, tugging Blaine along at the last second, causes Blaine's chest to seize up in fear every now and again. He realizes there are likely two reasons for Kurt's behavior: one, they've been apart long enough that any excuse to touch one another is reason enough, and two, Kurt's been allowed to be himself in New York; he expects to be able to do the same here with his boyfriend.

Except Ohio isn't New York, and Blaine wonders if Kurt's forgotten that.

He tries to just enjoy it as he follows Kurt, Tina and Sugar into Claire's, where they all go a little crazy with accessories between hats and brooches and earrings and head bands. Blaine finds a brooch that reminds him both of the mockingjay in "The Hunger Games", and Pavarotti, and when he pins it on the scarf Kurt has artfully wound around his neck, his boyfriend rolls his eyes just a bit before smiling and catching Blaine's hand to press a quick kiss to his fingers. The brooch is purchased, along with several other items including the tackiest leopard print boa Blaine has ever seen, but somehow Sugar makes it work, and they're on their way to the shoe store next door. Kurt turns his nose up at the merchandise, but the girls are happy, so Blaine finds himself helping them pick out a variety of sandals and boots to try on. He assists them both with trying on every pair of shoes, until at one point a sales associate walks by and asks him if he would like a job. Blaine flushes as Tina and Sugar tease him about what a wonderful shoe salesman he'd make. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds Kurt with his mouth covered, tears of laughter shining in his eyes.

Between two different shoe stores, Blaine stops to buy two chocolate chip cookies and a large Coke Zero, using the need to devour his snack as an excuse not to follow the girls into the second store. He sits on the small ledge of the window display just outside, and Kurt lingers beside him, occasionally reaching down to snap a tiny bite off of a cookie or lift the soda from Blaine's hand to take a sip.

"At this rate, Sugar's going to max out her card before we get through a quarter of the shops," Kurt points out, leaning into the entrance to watch as Tina and Sugar both stagger up to the counter, arms laden with boxes of shoes.

"She'll probably just call her dad to have him add more to it." Blaine licks the lingering chocolate from his fingertips before taking a sip of his soda.

"Must be nice." Kurt looks down at Blaine and smiles. "You should bring her to New York with you next month. Imagine Black Friday with Sugar at the helm?"

Blaine's eyes widen, and he laughs. "Honestly? The thought of the two of you together on Black Friday is a little terrifying, so I'm going to go with no."

Kurt sticks his lower lip out in a pout.

By the time lunch rolls around, Blaine and Kurt are both carrying bags that don't even belong to them because Tina and Sugar have gone a little crazy. Not to say the boys haven't made a few purchases of their own, but a couple of ties, some socks, two hats and a cardigan are minor compared to the bags of shoes, accessories, skirts and blouses. They find an empty table in the food court, and Blaine offers to sit with the purchases while the others scatter to find food.

"Any preferences?" Kurt asks as Tina heads off toward pizza and Sugar the sub shop.

Blaine glances around for a moment before shaking his head and looking back up at Kurt with a smile. "Surprise me."

"Sounds good." Kurt leans over to kiss the top of Blaine's head before moving off.

"Pretty certain my eyes are bigger than my stomach," Tina says as she sits down across from Blaine a few minutes later with two slices of pepperoni and a couple of breadsticks. "You're going to help me with this, right?"

"Always," Blaine says, reaching over to tug a piece of pepperoni from one of the slices. It's crispy. He loves crispy pepperoni.

"...so then I tell Artie, he just wasn't fulfilling me emotionally, you know?" Sugar is explaining her recent break up with Artie to Kurt as they return to the table. Kurt has a Greek wrap on the tray he's carrying, and a plate of General Tso's chicken and crab rangoon. Blaine bounces slightly in his seat happily as Kurt sets the plate in front of him, and Sugar continues, "He's far too wrapped up in his video games, and I need more "me" time. Anyway, it feels good to be an independent woman again."

Blaine and Kurt glance at one another, and Kurt gives a small smile and little shake of his head, as if to say it's nice to know things haven't changed in the choir room. As Sugar and Tina begin discussing their mutual ex-boyfriend, Artie, Blaine quickly shuts out their conversation-there's only so much you want to hear about a friend of yours, especially when it comes to exes discussing them-and focuses on the meal in front of him. He tears apart one of the crab rangoon, licking at the cream cheese filling inside before glancing to his side to find Kurt staring at him.

Licking off his lips self-consciously, Blaine offers his boyfriend a smile. "What?"

Kurt leans close to whisper into his ear, "Do you really expect me to make it through the rest of this shopping trip without tearing your clothes off if you don't stop displaying your tongue like that?"

Blaine almost licks his lips again at Kurt's words, but just barely stops himself as their gazes meet, Kurt's eyes sparkling at him mischievously. Rolling his eyes instead, Blaine pops the rest of the fried finger food into his mouth, and shrugs slightly. "Maybe you should follow me into the dressing room at Brooks Brothers."

"Maybe I just might."

Doubting very much that Kurt will actually do that-not when Tina and Sugar would inevitably follow to hover outside the door and listen-Blaine spears a couple of pieces of the crispy chicken to eat, smiling as Kurt reaches over to steal a piece of broccoli.

"What're you two up to?" Tina asks as she leans across the table to steal a crab rangoon.

"Hey!" Blaine protests as Kurt responds, "Clandestine meetings. Are the two of you done disparaging our friend?"

"We weren't disparaging, Artie." Sugar rolls her eyes. "We were comparing notes."

"Notes I'd rather not have too many details on," Blaine says rather pointedly, and both girls grin back at him.

They finish their lunch with conversations about the musical and Sectionals, and how Kurt is adapting to life in New York. Tina clears the table for them as Kurt takes Blaine's hand again, and Blaine has to fight the urge to look over his shoulder to see if anyone is watching. It's odd seeing this new Kurt, and Blaine wonders at the changes in him in so little time. Before, when out in public, they were typically careful in how much affection they'd display. Yes, they'd clasp hands in the places they felt most comfortable-the Lima Bean where people knew them (a barista Blaine shortly after they began dating that they'd been placing bets as to when he and Kurt would get together); the theater where they would go see something they weren't really interested in and sit in the back row paying far more attention to each other than what was happening on the screen; the McKinley hallways late in the day or on weekends when only the glee club was hanging around. Never places like the mall, though, where there were huge groups of people-people they don't know and can't place. Kurt knows that Blaine still tenses when walking through parking lots at night; how he clings to Kurt's hand and glances furtively all around until they're safe inside the car, doors locked. That's why he finds this strange, how Kurt has repeatedly taken his hand today, holding it close, fingers entwined, thumb caressing Blaine's palm.

When they leave the food court, there is finally agreement to let Blaine venture into Brooks Brothers, his favorite store. Kurt has promised to hold him to buying only that which he absolutely needs, though they both laugh at the thought because when it comes to clothes, there's always need for everything. On the way, they come across Rose and her older sister, and after repeatedly calling all of them 'bitches' for not inviting her along, she ditches her sister to join them.

Kurt appears amused by Rose, especially as she repeatedly refers to him as Blaine's boytoy, and at one point slaps Kurt's ass when she moves past him. Blaine can do little more than shrug in response because Rose has this way of claiming everything and everyone as absolutely hers the moment she decides she likes them. He whispers to Kurt that he should be pleased Rose likes him shortly before the girls, arms loaded with outfits they've decided the boys have to try on, drag them back to the dressing rooms.

By the time they are making their way back through the mall over an hour later, toward the doors they came in, Blaine is exhausted. For a good thirty minutes, the girls had decided it would be fun to dress Blaine up as Kurt, and Kurt as Blaine, before finally allowing them to both pick through the piles of clothes for the things they liked. Kurt had finished the excursion off with a silver and black vest he loved, and Blaine finally decided on a sweater vest, cardigan and a new pair of beige chinos.

They're just moving past the pizza place, and Blaine's considering asking if anyone wants to grab something to eat again when he feels Kurt take his free hand into his own. Kurt doesn't seem to be paying much attention, his gaze focused on Rose as they talk nonstop, bonding over a shared love of scarves, so Blaine thinks it must be that he doesn't notice the four boys, around their age, who pass them on the right. They're staring at their hands, and then at Kurt, and then over at Blaine, who gets caught watching them, and his jaw tightens as his heart races, and he snatches his hand away from Kurt's rather quickly, shoving it into his pocket.

Too quickly.

It's enough to cause Kurt to stop his conversation with Rose and look over at him, and then look around, like he knows Blaine's sudden action had been precipitated by something. Blaine chews on his lip, watching out of the corner of his eye as Kurt's shoulders tense slightly, and he sighs, slowly returning to his quiet discussion with Rose.

Blaine doesn't know why, but he can't help but feel that Kurt is more upset with him than he is with the boys Blaine can still feel watching them as they exit the mall.

* * *

><p><em>Blaine's dreaming about New York. He and Kurt are walking in Central Park, holding hands, smiling at one another. Blaine isn't certain how they got there or why; he only knows that the sun is a little too bright, causing him to squint, and Kurt's hand is warm in his, almost too warm, and Blaine thinks of letting go, if only to wipe the sweat from his palm. He doesn't want to let go, though, because the day is perfect, and that would ruin it, so he clings a little harder<em>...

His first realization that he's no longer dreaming is that the air has significantly cooled. Blaine curls his fingers, looking for the hand he'd been holding, only to find that they're wrapped in a pillow instead. It's when he feels warm, dry lips moving over the shell of his ear, and a hand flat and sliding over his back that Blaine's eyes drift open and a smile curves his lips. It's dark, the house silent except for the soft press of Kurt's lips against his neck, and the creak of the bed as Kurt shifts, moving closer to Blaine's side.

"What're you doin'?" He murmurs, still half-asleep but the feel of his pajama top being pushed upward, and Kurt's light kisses against his back, cause him to stretch languidly, something like a purr issuing from his throat.

"I had a dream about you," Kurt says quietly, pressing his cheek against Blaine's skin. "I woke up and stared at you for a while. Sometimes it shocks me, how beautiful you are, and that you're mine. So I decided a dream wasn't good enough, and I shut the door." He lifts his head and Blaine feels the wet swipe of his tongue along his spine. "Hope you don't mind?"

"Mmmmm, I never mind," Blaine says sleepily, burrowing his face just a bit further into the pillow beneath him as he smiles. He's done the same-woken up and just stared at Kurt, marveling at how perfect he was. "But your family might."

"Then you'll have to be extra quiet," Kurt whispers, a smile in his words as he mouths his way between Blaine's shoulder blades, lingering to suck over the spot where Blaine knows his birthmark is located. It's just an irregular patch of darker skin, but Kurt loves it for some reason. Licks and sucks over it until it turns red and purple; no longer a birthmark but a 'Kurt mark' as Kurt has taken to calling it proudly.

"You make that hard-"

"Hmmm. That's my hope, anyway."

Blaine presses his face back into the pillow, stifling his giggle, feeling Kurt shake with his own suppressed laughter over him before there's another press of lips against the back of his neck. Turning his head to lay his cheek against the pillow, Blaine's eyes flutter closed at the feel of Kurt's fingers trailing down his back. He shifts slightly as he feels a finger slide beneath his pajama bottoms, and further between the cleft of his ass, teasing and barely touching, and he doesn't think that's very nice. He murmurs as much, but all his words do is elicit a soft laugh from Kurt, and that's just about all Blaine can take as he flips onto his back suddenly, capturing Kurt beneath his arms and dragging him upward, pressing their lips together. Kurt laughs into the kiss for a moment before sighing contentedly, elbows pressing into the pillow above Blaine's shoulders as he leans into the kiss.

Moments later, and they scramble to rid one another of their pajamas, tossing them out of the way and to the floor. Shifting, Blaine slides his legs open in silent invitation, one that Kurt accepts instantly, slipping between them, mouths opening against one another in soft gasps as their cocks press together. They could do more but sometimes, the most simple things are the best. Blaine's still sleepy, and too impatient for teasing and waiting for preparation, and this-bodies lined up, grinding against one another-is still everything that makes them perfect and _together_. Simplicity has always been a major component of who they are, be it holding hands, staring into one another's eyes, or this... the slow slide of their bodies against one another, heart's beating in sync, eyes barely shuttered, gazing, watching as skin flushes and mouths fall open breathlessly.

Blaine loves it when Kurt is pressing inside of him, and he loves moving inside of Kurt. Giving Kurt a blow job might be one of his favorite things in all the world, and then there's the curious exploration of fingers, the sure, twisting grip of Kurt's hand around his cock, and so, so many things Blaine has imagined and dreamed. Things he wants to do someday, with Kurt; things he knows they're both not quite ready to explore just yet. They have the rest of their lives, Blaine knows, as surely as he knows the sun will come up in the morning , and in a little over twenty-four hours, Kurt will be heading back to New York, and soon, not too long now, Blaine will follow him.

So maybe that's why moving together like this, murmuring so softly how good it feels, and "_just a little harder"_, and "_god right there"_, and "_I love you so much"_ during barely-there kisses means more to Blaine, often, than the quick and hard and stupidly wonderful feel of fucking. He knows they'll have all the time in the world to explore at their own pace, and when he wraps his legs around Kurt's hips, it is not to say _go faster I need more_ but rather _I just need you closer, I wish this would last all night_. And Kurt knows that as he dips his head to Blaine's neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, laving it with his tongue as he continues to rock down against Blaine, shifting slightly to realign their bodies.

The build is slow, cherished, fingers entwining, mouths meeting, foreheads pressed together as whispers of forever are exchanged. And still, it's over too quickly for Blaine's liking as he feels the heat and blood pooling in his groin, urging his hips instinctively to thrust upward faster, harder, cock sliding almost desperately against Kurt's, even though he doesn't want this feeling to end at the very same time his body says otherwise. Too soon, Kurt is raising himself up slightly, balanced on his hands, pressing his hips down, faster, needier, forehead pressed to Blaine's as he moans softly, breathless. Blaine's hands slide down his back, cup his ass, pulling him closer, mindless with the need to simply feel until-

"Oh god, _Kurt_," Blaine keens softly as he comes, turning his face away to press it into the pillow, ever-mindful of being too loud, of being heard. He moves through his orgasm, still clutching Kurt close until he feels his boyfriend tense above him, and then the heated pulse of wet warmth between them.

Kurt's face nuzzles into Blaine's neck, body resting against his as they both breathe, fingers tracing lightly over skin as if just assuring themselves that the other is still there, heart beats slowing. When Blaine brings his head back up, Kurt's lips are there to greet him, and their smiles melt together for a moment as they kiss, slow and sated until the cooling stickiness between them becomes too uncomfortable to ignore.

Whispering for Blaine to stay there, Kurt slides from the bed to tiptoe over to the door, opening it just a hair, before moving back and snatching the box of tissues from his dresser. He kneels beside Blaine, cleaning them both off and goes to reach for their discarded pajamas but Blaine tugs him back down into another kiss.

"Stop!" Kurt protests after a moment, laughing softly and swatting at Blaine's shoulder as he pulls away. "Pajamas before we fall asleep or we'll have another embarrassing morning like that one time."

"At least Carole knows better than to come wake us up for breakfast now," Blaine whispers, grinning in the darkness until his pajama pants slap him in the face. "Oof!"

"Yes, but now I think my dad looks forward to waking us with the anticipation of tossing you out the window wearing nothing but a smile." The bed wiggles for a moment as Kurt slips back into his nightclothes.

Blaine makes a face as he lifts up his hips, sliding the loose pants over them. "He would never do that. Your dad likes me." He considers putting the top back on, then decides against it, tossing it to the floor. "Although, he would never let me live it down. Ever."

As he lays back against his pillow, Kurt snuggles against his side with a soft sigh as he slides his arm over Blaine's waist. "I love you," he says, pressing a kiss to his neck, nose nuzzling after before he settles.

Blaine pulls him close, arm resting around his shoulders, fingers playing through the hair over Kurt's ear. He smiles as Kurt moves into the touch like a cat, and Blaine turns his head to brush his lips against his forehead. They grow silent, but Blaine doesn't feel ready to go back to sleep just yet, and Kurt's fingers are tracing in a light pattern just above his belly button. Blaine lets his mind drift for a bit, enjoying the gentle dance of Kurt's fingers over his skin, wondering what nights like this will be like when their together in New York. Everything will be different. Better.

Frowning a little at the thought of the here and now, Blaine whispers, "I'm sorry about earlier."

Kurt lifts his head, brow furrowed in confusion as he settles his chin over Blaine's left breast.

"At the mall," Blaine clarifies quietly. "When I wouldn't hold your hand. I didn't mean-"

Blaine is silenced when Kurt leans forward quickly to kiss him.

"Shhhh. It's okay. I understand. I mean-" Kurt cuts himself off and settles back against Blaine once more, still gazing at him. He appears to be considering his words for a moment before finally saying, "I've missed it, I guess. Just holding your hand. I should have known better. This is Ohio, not New York but... At school, I see couples holding hands on campus all the time. Guys, girls. There's this couple in my Costume History class, Stephen and Robbie. They-well, they need to learn that not everyone really wants to witness their extreme PDA, but still. I can't help but be a little jealous. I want that, you know? I wish you were there so-"

"So we could stick our tongues down each other's throats while everyone watches?"

Kurt pokes him in the ribs while Blaine giggles. "No, brat. But, to at least hold hands. I just," he sighs and lays his cheek against Blaine's shoulder, "want to hold hands with you while we walk down the street to the coffee shop together. Or across the campus to the library. And I... I hate that I can't. Not yet."

"I'm sorry." And Blaine is. Ever since it hit them both that they would be separated for the year that Blaine had to finish high school, Blaine has blamed himself for not being able to leave with Kurt. Not circumstances or facts. Just himself.

"It's not your fault," Kurt murmurs, his hand moving to slide across Blaine's belly in a soothing caress. "Kyle says this separation is probably good for us. The heart growing fonder and all of that."

Blaine nods in agreement before Kurt's words sink in. "Kyle? Who's that?"

"Huh? Oh. I haven't told you about Kyle?" Kurt lifts his head again to look at Blaine, frowning a little as he shakes his head in negation. "He's a sophomore in the program. Rachel met him on our first day, and he ended up giving us a tour of the campus and stuff. He's nice. I think I've told him everything about you."

"I hope not everything. That would be a little embarrassing when I meet him next year."

Kurt rolls his eyes and beats his forehead against Blaine's shoulder playfully. "Shut up. And go to sleep. If I have to sit through football games for you tomorrow," Kurt yawns then for effect, Blaine figures, "then I'm going to need my rest."

"You're the one who woke me up," Blaine mutters, turning so that they're facing one another, legs automatically tangling together, foreheads so close they're almost touching.

Kurt smiles and closes his eyes, reaching for Blaine's hand to tangle their fingers together, holding them between their chests. "I wanted you to hold my hand," he finishes quietly.

Returning his smile, even though Kurt cannot see it, Blaine brings their entwined hands up, pressing a kiss to Kurt's fingers before laying them on the mattress between them once more. No longer sleepy, he simply gazes at Kurt in the darkness, watching as the boy/man he loves more than anything in the world drifts back to sleep, features settling peacefully.

"Not too long now," Blaine whispers softly to him, voice breaking slightly because it _is_ long, and they both know that, and they're strong yes, but that doesn't make this easy. "Not too long, and I'll be right there with you, and nothing, _nothing_will ever keep us apart again. I promise."

* * *

><p>Blaine grabs the last book to shove into his messenger bag before his eyes drift up to the picture of him and Kurt affixed to the inside of his locker door. It had been taken by Rachel on July 4th at the Hummel-Hudson's barbecue celebration. There'd been a ton of food and music and swimming, and Kurt had refused to get into the pool until Blaine had grabbed him from behind and threw them in together. The picture had been taken shortly after they'd climbed out an hour later, having spent most of that time dunking one another under the water, and never once letting go of the other. In the photo, they're wet and laughing, Blaine with his chin on Kurt's shoulder, hugging him from behind, Kurt's head turned, looking at Blaine, laughing, with so much love in his eyes.<p>

Kurt had only headed back to New York this morning, and already Blaine misses him terribly. Kurt had surprised Blaine by showing up at his house last night, just after Blaine had finished up his homework. He'd somehow convinced his dad that he and Blaine should be allowed to spend the last night together before he went back to school, and Burt had apparently relented. Of course, Kurt had shown up thinking Blaine had the house to himself, only to find out his mother was home. There had been only a few moments of awkwardness between them before Chesa had wished them both a good night, and headed up to bed. Blaine and Kurt had both been a bit groggy from a lack of sleep when he'd dropped Kurt off at the Hummel-Hudson residence on the way to school that morning, but it had all been worth it.

Closing his locker door, Blaine jumps slightly to find a boy standing on the other side of it, leaning against the lockers as if waiting for Blaine to acknowledge him. He has dark, curly, slightly mussed hair that's a little too long and a pale complexion with eyes a little too large, staring back at Blaine. He's wearing a black hoodie with a little logo in the corner of the right side. Blaine squints slightly in recognition, smiling a little when he realizes it's the Horde symbol from World of Warcraft.

"Hi," he greets, continuing to smile. "Is there something you need?"

"You're in glee club, right? You're like the leader or whatever."

Blaine shrugs. "I guess I'm captain, yeah. Why?"

"Saw your performance at the stupid pep rally." The boy rolls his eyes. "Anyway, my parents are giving me a lot of shit about extracurriculars and stuff for college." He pulls a face.

Blaine tries not to smile again. "So, you're interested in joining glee club?"

The boy shrugs.

Blaine holds out his hand. "I'm Blaine."

"Chandler," comes the reply as Chandler takes his hand and shakes it.

He can't help himself. "Oooh, were your parents _Friends_fans?" Chandler's silence and glare are all the answer Blaine needs. He allows a smile this time. "Do you enjoy music?"

"Who doesn't?" Chandler says with another shrug. "My friend had a band I played in for a while."

"Oh? You play an instrument?"

"Drums."

Nodding, Blaine lays a hand on Chandler's shoulder and guides him around to walk with him down the hall toward the choir room. "And you sing?"

"Mostly in the shower. And Guitar Hero. I play a lot of Guitar Hero."

"Who doesn't?" Blaine glances over at him and grins. "Looks like you play some Warcraft, too."

"My obsession with music is only matched by my obsession with video games," Chandler admits. "RPG's mostly. I wanna be a video game programmer, hence the extracurriculars talk. My grades are okay but my parents claim I'm too anti-social." Another roll of the eyes. "You couldn't pay me to play a stupid fucking sport."

"I take it there's no Madden in your game collection."

"My uncle gave me a copy last Christmas. I use it for a coaster in my room."

Blaine laughs and gives Chandler's shoulder a pat. "I won't hold that against you."

"Wait." Chandler stops and gives Blaine the once-over. "You like sports games? Aren't you... gay?"

Blaine crosses his arms over his chest and gives Chandler the same look. "Shouldn't you be overweight and living in your parent's basement?"

"Touché." Chandler gives Blaine a brief bow of concession.

Laughing once more, Blaine continues leading Chandler toward the choir room, warning him that he'll need to give them a performance so that they know he can sing. Chandler seems to be fine with that, though he warns Blaine that he's kind of attached to the classics. Blaine can't help but be stupidly excited over what he might mean by that.

When they enter the classroom, Mr. Schuester is already talking about that week's assignment, which is to begin focusing on building their set list for Sectionals in three weeks. Blaine pauses beside the piano with Chandler beside him, catching Tina's questioning look and returning it with a grin and a slight shrug of his shoulders. Schuester apparently sees the other glee kids looking behind him because he stops mid-sentence to glance over his shoulder, brow creasing slightly in curiosity.

"Blaine," he greets with a smile, gaze shifting over to Chandler. "Who's this?"

"This," Blaine says, placing his hands on Chandler's shoulders and guiding him forward to the center of the room. "Is our newest glee club member, Chandler. Chandler, say hi to the group."

Chandler gives a brief lift of his chin and waves. "Hi, group."

"Can you sing, Chandler?" Harmony asks from where she's sitting in the front row.

Blaine gives their newest member another quick pat on the shoulder before stepping up the risers to grab his seat between Tina and Sugar, while Mr. Schuester moves out of the way to sit down in the front.

"I'm okay, I think," Chandler says, setting down his back pack and wandering over to the band members to converse with them about whatever song he plans to sing.

"Where'd you find him?" Tina asks, leaning over into Blaine's space.

"He found me, actually. Looks like our performance at the pep rally didn't go completely unnoticed."

Tina bumps his shoulder with her own. "I knew you wouldn't let us down. Oh! By the way, I think I've come up with the perfect costumes for us for Halloween. I've also convinced my aunt and uncle to let us borrow my cousin so we can her door-to-door."

Blaine raises an eyebrow, glancing at Tina as the band begins playing Genesis' "That's All". "Do I even want to know?" he whispers.

Halloween is one of Blaine's favorite times of the year. Blaine has a particular fondness for being frightened. He loves the adrenaline rush of a well-told horror movie-haunted houses and zombies being a particular favorite. And while Kurt has abhorrence for all things scary, Blaine quickly discovered a way for his boyfriend's dislike of such things to be to his advantage. That is, with the right amount of coaxing, he can convince Kurt to sit through some of his favorite scary movies and TV shows, which means an hour or two of his boyfriend cuddled close, face pressed into his shoulder, and lots of comforting afterwards. Without Kurt around this year, though, Blaine and Tina have bonded over a fondness for dressing up for the holiday, and heading over to Sugar's for a Halloween party afterward.

Tina is beaming at him as she responds, "Raggedy Ann and Andy zombies!"

Blaine's hands quickly fly to cover his face as he swallows back his laughter, and the threat of a squeal, because the idea is actually perfect, and he knows they'll look fantastic, and is a little thankful Kurt won't be there to see if because his boyfriend handles zombies about as well as he handles vampires. There will still have to be plenty of pictures taken, though.

Once he regains his composure, Blaine leans over to whisper into Tina's ear, "I don't think I could love you more, T."

"Just remember that when I ask you for your share of the candy."


End file.
